The Secret Diary of Arwen's Twin Sister
by Hwesta
Summary: Dear Diary, Let me get this straight once and for all. I am not Arwen. I may look like her, sound like her, but please kill me before I start to act like her. My name is Sardwen and Arwen is my identical twin sister COMPLETE
1. Chapter One

Sardy's back! ...and this time she's complete! Everyone dies of shock!

Unfortunately I've got to load all the chapters (and the last one!) up again because Fanfiction in their infinite wisdom decided to take it down. Fair enough... I was breaking the rules. But look... first page now equals first chapter. I'm now a law abiding citizen!!

Still... it gives you a chance to read from the beginning and refresh your memories. I'll post a chapter every other day or so....

So... is Arwen really as perfect as she appears in the books and films?

That was the question that inspired me to write this - the secret diary of Arwen's twin sister. The sister that knows the truth... what really happens when the cameras turn the other way!!

Obviously I don't own any of Tolkien's characters. Sometimes I'll follow the books, sometimes I'll follow the films, sometimes I'll make it up all together - but bear with me... I think it'll work!!

CAUTION:

I'm not writing this as deadly serious. I'm having fun - changing things, parodying Mary-Sue stories - but actually creating someone who is vaguely likeable.

Do not read this story if:

a) You have no sense of humour

b) You cannot accept the idea of OC's at all, or character's personalities being changed

b) You love Arwen and can't bear to see her affectionately made fun of - even in jest.

c) You hate Arwen and don't like resolutions/happy endings

d) You are so obsessed with every tiny little detail from Lord of the Rings that you cannot bear things to be "Wrong" E.g. modern phrases purposefully thrown in, details being overlooked and ignored etc.

If any of the above apply to you - then don't read any further. Go find a story that appeals more to your tastes. The world is made up of different people. We don't all like the same things!

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

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Dear Diary,

Let me get this straight once and for all. I am not Arwen. I may look like her, sound like her, but please kill me before I start to act like her.

My name is Sardwen and Arwen is my identical twin sister.

I know. It's an awful name isn't it? I asked Daddy about it once and he said that back when we were born, 2,777 years ago, no one would have thought it was strange.

Besides, he and Mother had already decided to call their new daughter Arwen. When I was born too, they had to quickly think of another name that sounded similar enough for twins. I personally think that similar sounding twin names is a stupid custom. All that happens is that your tongue gets twisted up when you shout out a name. Take Daddy for instance. His twin brother was called Elros. Imagine shouting at him when he was little. You would never get the right name. (Besides, I bet daddy was a right goodie goodie when he was younger, he probably never got told off!)

Honestly, what else rhymes with Arwen other than Sardwen? couldn't my parents have been a little more imaginative?

Trust me to get the worst name of the two. Why couldn't she be saddled with it?

Arwen thinks that it's hilarious. There are so many insults you can make from Sardwen. Sad, Saddo, Slimeball, believe me, I've heard them all. At the moment she calls me Sardine or Fishy, then dodges away laughing when I get mad. I lose my temper quite often, it's probably my worst fault. You wouldn't blame me if you knew what I have to put up with.

It's no fun being the identical sister of a popular elf. I'm always the one who gets ignored and forgotten. Most people think that we are the same person. They think that there is only one daughter of Elrond, called Arwen. If anyone ever told the story of Daddy's household. I'm certain that I would be left out.

I hate being an identical twin. Arwen loves it. She gets all the benefits with none of the disadvantages. For example, when we were little and Daddy used to give us gifts. She would take hers and then pretend to be me and get mine. If I complained, Daddy would blame me for trying to get two. She quickly became Daddy's favourite. I think he even loves her more than Elladan and Elrohir, my elder brothers. She has this way of twisting him around her little finger. Spoilt little brat.

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I ran into my old teacher today. I had to pick him up from where he landed on the ground and apologise profoundly. He asked me where I was going in such a hurry. In actual fact I was hurrying to see Elladan and Elrohir before they left again. They are probably the only people who have even the slightest idea what Arwen is really like. They are not 100% deceived like most people. It's probably because they are twins too. At least they both get mentioned and remembered. Unfortunately, I only get their sympathy whilst they are here, and goodness knows when I'll next see them again. Probably not for months. They spend most of their time killing orcs in revenge for what they did to Mother.

My teacher reminded me how I was always in a hurry at school. He claimed that was the reason why I got such low marks. I scowled at the floor whilst he was lecturing me. He didn't know anything. Being in the same class as Arwen meant that I had to compete with her. She was such a perfect student, that I decided that I'd rather not try. Hence, when Daddy compared our results he was always disappointed.

"What a shame I couldn't have two wonderful daughters." He would say, hugging Arwen tightly. She would peer out from the folds of his robe and stick her tongue out at me. I would stand alone in front of my parents and hate her for it.

I couldn't stand much of my old teachers waffling, he was still as boring as ever. I waited till he was in mid flow about archery and horse skills, then I sneaked away. I wonder how long he stayed there talking to himself?

After all that, I missed my brothers leaving. I'll have to wait till they come again.

I'm in a really bad mood now.

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There was another banquet tonight. I was sitting quietly eating at the table when this elf comes up and asked me to dance. Correction. He asked Arwen to dance, but he was addressing me. I refused, purely on the grounds that if he didn't even know who I was, then why should I dance with him. Only I had forgotten that Daddy was sitting opposite me. He looked at me sternly and ordered me to dance. Apparently he wasn't going to have his reputation for entertaining ruined by a rude, disobedient daughter.

So I had to dance. I took great delight on stamping on his toes as often as possible, whilst still looking innocent. At the end of the dance I waltzed back to my seat, whilst he hobbled off in the other direction. Unfortunately, Daddy has eyes like...well, eyes like an elf and had witnessed every stamp. So I got sent off to my room in disgrace whilst Arwen was being fought over. Life is so unfair.

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Arwen had nothing to do today, that is always a bad sign. I was sitting quietly reading when she came up to me. She sat next to me and started poking me with a finger. I told her to go away but she started calling me "Fishy" and prodding harder.

Being the grown up, civilised elf that I am, I gave her a look of pure disgust and walked calmly away to find somewhere more peaceful to read.

Like the outside privy.

That wasn't good enough. Oh no. Mistress Arwen followed me and posted herself outside the privy door. She talked about fishy smells and other smells and started winding me up in that infuriating way, that only she knows how. I sat in the dark gritted my teeth and tried to remember if there was ever a time when she didn't annoy me.

Back when we still celebrated our birthday (before the number of candles couldn't fit on the cake) She always got the best presents. You could even see the difference in the number of cards. I got one from my parents and maybe a few others addressed to Arwen and thrust in my hand by beetroot coloured elves who stammered something and hurried off. She always got hundreds of them. She would wave them in front of me. Taunting me. Asking me why I didn't have as many friends.

I once went to see a psychiatrist guy about my problems. He told me to lie on the bed and tell me all the things I had been keeping to myself. Several hours later when I had described the first 200 years of my life, I noticed that there had been no movement behind the dark glasses for a long time. I yanked them off to find that he was asleep. He apologised when I shook him awake, he asked me what I would do if I had to sit and listen to elves life stories every day. Maybe it was time he went to work for mortals.

I refused to pay him of course, but that made him angry. He went to Daddy and told him that I had robbed him. Of all the cheek! Daddy insisted that I paid him, so I stole the money from Arwen. (She has a secret supply under her bed.) I thought that it was only fair. She was the only reason I had to see the psychiatrist in the first place.

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Arrrrghhhh!!! I can't stand this any more!!!!!

Being with Arwen is a living nightmare. She taunts me all the time and knows exactly how to wind me up. She flaunts around shoving that huge engagement ring under my nose. (Honestly, if the diamonds were any bigger, she wouldn't be able to lift her hand.) Besides, Aragorn is a very sore subject. I don't want to talk about it now.

Anyway, after a couple of hours of her following me around, teasing about lack of boyfriend and how unlikely it was that I'd ever find a husband, I couldn't stand it any longer. I threw myself at her, knocking her to the floor. She gave a cry and tried to throw me off as I went for her silky long hair. Yanking out clumps of the stuff gave me great satisfaction, as did the screams that followed. I didn't get off lightly though, Arwen has claws like a cat and was busy gorging chunks out of my face. Sometimes I wish I was mortal. At least then it wouldn't be as painful when someone attacks your ears.

I was winning when Daddy arrived. One of those stupid elves gathering in a throng around us watching the catfight, must have told him that his daughters were responsible. I suppose it did look bad from her point of view. I was on top with chunks of her hair in my fists. Also there was the fact that you could hear her screaming from miles away, I tend to suffer pain in silence.

Of course I got the full blame for the fight. Arwen only had to squeeze a few tears out of those big brown eyes and Daddy was practically eating out of her hand. He wouldn't even listen to my explanation. Instead he told me to stop telling tales and grow up. Honestly, I am 2777 years old. What does he expect from me? He said that he was disappointed in me. I should behave more like my wise Granny, Galadriel. For the time being, my punishment was 3 weeks of solitary confinement to reflect on my actions. I made two resolutions within the first 5 minutes. One was to get myself a husband to rub in Arwen's face. The other was to get my revenge....

The rest of the three weeks were incredibly boring. That was bad enough, but Arwen standing by the grating outside my room and gloating about how she had got away with it was even worse. I can't stand much more of that girl. One day I'll do something she'll regret...


	2. Chapter Two

I was sitting in my room writing when a great crash and banging came from Arwen's room next door. It was much earlier than she normally returned to bed. Arwen is one of those annoying life-of-the-party girls. Everyone spends most of their time hanging around her. Half the elves goggling at her as if they had never seen a female before. I assumed it was Arwen and some elf she had picked up for yet another midnight feast. If I was a nasty, sneaky sort of elf, I might wonder what Aragorn would say if he knew about all Arwen's "midnight feasts?" But I'm not like that, so I guess I'll never know.

I banged on the wall, telling them to shut up, but the noise continued. I added a stream of elvish words that shouldn't be repeated on this paper. (It's amazing what vocabulary you can pick up here. Because it's the last homely house we get all sorts of travellers coming through)

The noise stopped for a moment, obviously surprised by my outburst. then it started up again.

By this time I had had enough. I left my room and pounded on the door. "Shut up" I screamed, "Some of us are trying to sleep" I kicked that door, (imagining it was my sister) when suddenly it flew off its hinges.

The room was deserted except for Glorfindel hanging from the ceiling by his legs. When he saw me he cried out "Arwen, release me please." Once I'd got over the shock of seeing him in that position, I was about to give him a mouthful for calling me Arwen, when I decided to let it pass. (He was upside down after all, maybe it was harder to tell us apart.) I also wanted to know what he was doing in there.

Suddenly a whirlwind swept past me laughing her head off. I stumbled against the door and watched her taunt Glorfindel. I finally understood. Arwen had suspected someone of sneaking into her room and reading her diary. She had set a booby trap to find out who it was. (I was very glad that I had decided against reading her diary this morning.)

I sneaked back to my room. This event had raised a few serious issues for me. I saw nothing wrong in occasionally looking at Arwen's diary, but what if someone was doing the same to me. I couldn't bear this record of my private feelings to be exposed to the public.

I know, I'll set my own trap. Then I'll know if anyone's coming in.

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No one has set off my trap today.

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Or today.

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Or today. No luck on the husband front either.

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Or today. Does anyone want to read my diary, or am I totally unimportant?

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Still no one has set off my trap. That's it, I knew I was turning invisible. No one cares about me, I might as well be dead.

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Returned to my room late last night, couldn't find a candle and blundered straight into my trap. Arwen came in to find me hanging from the ceiling and screaming my head off. She collapsed with hysterics in front of me and refused to cut the rope. I'll never set a trap for my diary again.

It was Glorfindel who released me in the end. I hate being in his debt, but the only reward he wanted was for me to help him sneak into Arwen's room one night. I told him about the Ivy plant reaching up to her bedroom window, and he went off with a smile on his face. I don't think even he is stupid enough to try it out.

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I was wrong. Glorfindel is now in the medical wing of the house, being treated for numerous broken bones. He tried to climb up the Ivy, but it came away from the wall. Sometimes I really wonder if I am the only sane person here.

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I've got a sneaky suspicion that Arwen is reading my diary. I inspected the Ivy plant and discovered that it had been cut. How else would Arwen know that Glorfindel was going to try to enter that way?

I must hide this diary somewhere really safe. Where she will never, ever find it.

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[Several months later]

Sorry I haven't written in you for a long time Diary, but I have only just found you. I hid you so well, that I couldn't remember where on earth I put you. I have just turned my room upside down and found all sorts of things I'd lost. A lock of Granny's hair, a clump of dried Athelas, a couple of shards from Narsil (I'd better put them back before Aragorn finds out), and a plastic replica of the ring Daddy used to wear on his finger. (Unfortunately it doesn't do the big water splashy thing like Daddy's)

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Someone called me Sauron today. Of all the nerve!! I'm sick to death of being called after my twin sister. But to be called after that evil, dark thing in Mordor is going too far!!! Why can't people remember my real name?

Sardwen.....Sardwen....Sardwen....It's not that hard to remember.

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I have solved the mystery. Arwen wasn't reading my diary. It was that Erestor, chief of Daddy's counsellors who has fancied her for ages. He was so jealous when he realised that Glorfindel was going to climb the ivy that he cut it himself. Unfortunately, the tree branch he was leaning from snapped as he cut through.

He has only just hobbled out of the medical wing. What a shame!

Serves him right for invading my privacy!

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I was walking along the terrace when Erestor hobbled up and threw himself at my feet. "Arwen," he cried, "Love of my life, please do not ignore me any more." I suppressed my great desire to throw him over the edge of the balcony. Gritting my teeth, I explained that I was not Arwen, I was her twin sister and if he called me by that name again, he would find the quickest route to the ground floor.

I stormed off and bumped into the woman herself hiding behind a curtain. She had a huge grin over her face. "Thanks Sardine" she said flinging her arms around my neck. "That stupid elf has been following me for ages, I couldn't stand it any longer." before I could say a word, she had walked off. She stopped at the corner only long enough to tell me that I should improve my flirting and chat up lines if I ever wanted to find a husband.

Can you believe it? I was so angry, that if she hadn't grinned and run off to find Daddy, I would have flung her over the balcony as well. I visualised the image of her body spread-eagled all over the rocks with plenty of blood flowing out instead.

It made me feel much better until Glorfindel stopped hobbling by on his crutches, to ask me who I was dreaming of with that stupid grin on my face.

One day, I'll get my revenge....


	3. Chapter Three

Arwen's gone off on a mission. Daddy has heard that Aragorn and a group of hobbits are coming towards us. Glorfindel was going to go and find them, but after his unfortunate accident, he's in no fit state to ride off on an adventure. I was longing to go, to get out of this dump. But as usual, Daddy chose his favourite. I was sure that I could persuade him on this issue. I just had to mention the fact that Arwen could be killed on such a dangerous mission and it was better to send the expendable child instead. Unfortunately, Daddy laughed and reminded me that I failed my horse studies exam when I was at school, and still traumatise any animal I touch. I suggested that I could walk instead, but he wouldn't hear of it. So Arwen's riding off into the sunset, and I'm supposed to smile and wave cheerily. Fat chance. I'm stuck behind with all her suitors At least now, they can't mistake me for Arwen.

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I don't believe it. They're still calling me Arwen. I reminded them politely that Arwen has gone (never to return, if I had my way) but they still don't get the message. How stupid can you get. I once thought that it would be fun having all Arwen's admirers instead of being alone in the corner. I thought that I'd get myself a husband in no time. Then I could shove my ring in her face. But it's no fun being nothing but a replica of my stupid sister. Why can't any of them respect me for who I am?

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Today I dyed my hair purple and wore a big baggy t-shirt with the words "I am Sardwen, not Arwen" written across in bright red letters. I got a lot of funny looks, then one elf said. "Are you having some sort of identity crisis Arwen, I preferred your hair brown."

I stormed off to re-dye my hair, leaving him struggling to remove the t-shirt I rammed over his head.

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It's so peaceful here without Arwen. I'm really enjoying myself. I'm in a good mood because Mithrandir has arrived. (He knows what it is like to be called the wrong name. After all, last time I counted his names I got to about 14. 'Gandalf' being the most used, but I prefer the elvish version of course!)

He is one of the few people in the world who can tell me and my twin apart. (without looking for the birthmark on her back). Not only that, he treats me as a total individual, not Arwen's replica. Shame he's a bit old for a husband.

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I was wondering about the possibility of actually pretending to be Arwen for a few moments. Just long enough for one of Arwen's suitors to propose and for me to accept. (Oh, and long enough for him to get me a lovely big engagement ring that I can shove up Arwen's nostrils for a change.) I was just considering Arwen's reaction when she returned, and if it would be worth the pain factor, when Mithrandir approached me.

"I wouldn't do it Sardwen" he muttered in my ear. "You'll find a husband of your own one day, one that will love you and not your sister. It's not worth the bother." I was gob smacked. Could he read my mind? Before I could ask him, he had gone. It's funny how he can disappear like that. He gave me something to think about though. Maybe looking for a husband just to spite my sister is not the best motive. But I'm reluctant to give up my resolution. We'll just have to see.

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Oh goodie, visitors! I get so bored stuck in this dump, it's nice to meet new people. It's a little annoying when they first arrive, all open mouthed and "Isn't this place beautiful" etc.. when they first see the waterfalls and woods. Especially when they tell me how lucky I am to live here. Huh. They should try staying here for 2777 years with Arwen as a sister. They'll soon change their minds.

Anyway, something important must be coming up because we have a load of dwarfs. (the less said, the better) Daddy must be the only elf around who lets them stay. I don't trust them myself.

There is a man from Gondor, a certain Boromir, he came because of some sort of dream. Well, if I copied my dreams, Arwen would have died years ago, in hundreds of painful circumstances.

Lastly there are some elves from Mirkwood. We don't see them very often, keep themselves to themselves. They are probably only bringing bad news anyway. Amongst them is their prince, Legolas Greenleaf. Very nice! But I won't get my hopes up. One glance at Arwen and he'll just be another brainwashed puppet like the rest of them.

Surely, one of them would do as a husband? At this rate, I'll never achieve those resolutions I made in back in solitary confinement.

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Found Legolas alone in the garden today. I decided to check out where I stood. Nothing too obvious, I didn't want to make a fool out of myself. Just a simple Archery lesson. (Well, he is supposed to be one of the best archers around.)

I conveniently "forgot" how to hold the bow correctly. (Don't get me wrong. Just holding the bow was the only thing I ever got good marks for at school. It was when we had to touch the arrows that things went wrong) So he had to show me.

Several times.

It was only after the sixth time my fingers strayed from the correct positions, (so that he had to reach his arms around me to put them back,) that he got annoyed.

We hadn't even picked up an arrow, but he stormed off, claiming that I was wasting his time. Honestly! I was very tempted to fire an arrow at his back as he strode across the lawn. But, knowing my aim, I would probably have hit Mithrandir who was watching intently from the top of the balcony.

Next I tried to break the bow over my knee in frustration. (I had seen someone do it before, probably the teacher who was supposed to be teaching me.)

I ended up with a torn dress and a very painful knee. (The bow was still whole)

So I threw it down on the ground (along with some choice phrases) and stormed off myself.

I never liked him much anyway. If he was going to die his hair, why didn't he do his eyebrows whilst he was at it? I'm going off to find Boromir. Maybe I'll have more luck there.

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Peace and tranquillity is over. Arwen has returned.

She brought a little halfling who was in a dreadful state. He'd been stabbed by a poisoned knife. Bother those Nazgûl. They got it wrong again. The one they meant to stab was standing in front of me gloating her head off.

Daddy took him straight to the medical wing. It's quite empty there now. Erestor has joined Glorfindel on the crutches. They both hobble down the corridor after the crowd that surrounds Arwen as she tells her story.

"....and so I took him in my arms and rode like the wind, my hair streaming out behind me. The Nazgûl chased for all they were worth, but they couldn't get near me..."

I couldn't get near her either. There was a huge crowd surrounding her. If I pushed hard enough, I might get close enough to shut her up. But it wasn't worth the bother. I left her talking about fords and rushing waves of water. Her followers were all sitting there open mouthed and gasping at her every word.

I felt quite sick to tell the truth

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Arwen annoyed me again this morning, so spitting with rage I set out to thoroughly annoy someone else.

I headed towards the medical wing and came across this little hobbit, Sam, guarding over the unconscious Frodo. I thought that he would make a good enough target to annoy for a while.

So, I sat next to the bed and took Frodo's hand. I muttered a load of mumbo-jumbo rubbish, whilst watching Sam's reaction. I wound him up even more, talking about the healing power of an Elf's hand, and how it was essential it was that I remained by Frodo's side. I even told him that if he touched Frodo, it would kill him. I think he believed the lot, but I've never seen anyone so jealous, it was very funny.

Unfortunately, Daddy came in and told me to get out. He has absolutely no sense of humour, I left him trying to calm down a distraught Sam.

I stormed out of the medical room and nearly ran into another hobbit. "How is he?" he asked. I grunted a reply and turned to walk on. He was still staring at me with a weird expression on his face. "Don't worry Arwen, we won't let those riders anywhere near you. You're quite safe. We'll soon rid you of this terrible enemy!" he called out. I was flabbergasted. As if that tiny little halfling could ever protect me from danger! Did he really believe what he was saying? He was the one in danger, of being flattened by me, for calling me by my sister's name.

Anyway, he hasn't rid me of my terrible enemy. Arwen is still here and just as poisonous as ever.

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This is the last straw. Daddy took me aside today and talked quietly about the unsuitability of hobbits for a husband. Just because I was holding Frodo's hand.....I couldn't believe he could be that stupid.


	4. Chapter Four

I was standing by the waterfall today, watching the sunlight reflect off the water droplets when Aragorn came up behind me.

"Arwen," he called hopefully. I decided to ignore the name mistake and smiled at him cheerfully. His face fell when he saw me properly.

"Oh it's you. " he said, then stomped off to find Arwen. I don't mind admitting that it hurt my feelings. It's just not fair, I was the one who spotted Aragorn first.

I remember when he arrived, it doesn't seem like long ago. His Dad was out hunting orcs with my brothers when he was killed. Stupid really, I mean why go looking for suicide? You'd never find me hunting for orcs.

His mum brought him to stay with us. Daddy called him Estel and brought him up like a son. If I was a grudging sort of person, I might mention here that he loved his foster child more than he loved me, his own daughter. But, of course, I'm not that sort of person.

I wasn't allowed too close. Daddy didn't trust me with small children (knowing my reputation with animals) so I watched him grow up from a distance. I soon realised that he would make a nice catch when he was old enough. (You know, good looking-ish, nice personality, plus the fact that he was heir to the throne of Gondor...) I didn't think that Daddy would have any objection of getting me off his hands for good, I just had to be in the right place at the right time. So what went wrong?

Aragorn saw me first, not Arwen. I'll always insist upon the truth.

I was walking calmly through the silver birches of my home one day, my long dark hair straying behind in the sudden breeze when I saw him. He stared at me open mouthed and I realised that I was in with a chance. I decided to make the moment more poetical by floating past and waiting for him to call me.

I walked elegantly around a large tree and discretely turned my head to see if he was coming. At that moment, I caught my foot in a tree root and lurched forward, hands outstretched to reduce the pain of impact.

I ended up in a prickle bush, dust all over my torn dress, hair looking like a banshee and an ankle that was just beginning to swell.

That was when I saw Arwen appear from nowhere. To my horror, she was wearing exactly the same dress as me. I couldn't believe it! She'd only got back a few hours before (from spending years at Granny's in Lothlórien) and was already stealing from my wardrobe!

That wasn't the worst bit. Aragorn ran up to her instead of me. I sat there in absolute agony, unable to show myself because I was in such a state.

He saw me first. Not her!!!

But now, the tale is told differently and Arwen is all that matters to him. I'm sure she didn't even like him until she realised how jealous I was.

I could burst into tears when I think about it.

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Decided to pull myself together after my long moan yesterday. I WILL get over losing Aragorn. Furthermore, I will find someone nice for me.

(If I repeat those lines enough times, they might just come true.)

Anyway, I found Boromir sitting alone staring into the distance. I asked him what was the matter. He looked at me in surprise. Obviously most people don't care enough about him to ask him why he was so upset. Like me really.

We had a really long conversation. Call me selfish, but I'd never really thought about the sacrifices being made by the people of Gondor. I sit here everyday and complain about trivial things, whilst they go out and die in battles in order to keep Sauron out of middle earth.

Boromir is desperate to get help for his people. I'd go and help, but I'm not sure exactly how to hold a sword, never mind use it. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be Boromir. So much responsibility, dealing with people's lives. Scary.

I just wish I could find something, anything that would give his people a better chance at fighting the enemy. They desperately need all the help they can get.

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Found Aragorn and Mithrandir arguing today, over who had the most names and titles. Aragorn came up with 'Aragorn son of Arathorn', 'Strider', 'Dunedain', 'Elendil's heir', 'Isildur's heir' and 'Elessar'

Mithrandir had 'Gandalf,' 'Mithrandir,' 'Istari,' 'Wizard,' 'Grey Pilgrim,' 'Grey wanderer', 'Stormcrow' etc...

At this point Aragorn went off in a sulk, claiming that he didn't want to play such childish games. In my opinion he realised that Mithrandir had one more name than him. He always was so competitive, even as a child.

Saw Aragorn later at tea. He was arguing with Mithrandir whether 'Tiggles' counted as another name. I don't want to know who calls him that.

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Played a game of I-spy with the hobbits today. They accused me of cheating. Me??!! Honestly, is it my fault if they cannot see the rabbit in the field 4 leagues away? I can't help it if my elvish eyesight is so much better than theirs. Spoil sports, that's what you get for trying to be sociable!

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Saw Boromir again today. He really is a nice man, I don't know why I didn't see it before. He was a bit nervous. Daddy's finally holding the important meeting tomorrow. Honestly, Boromir rides all this way in a terrible hurry, and Daddy can't even be bothered to hold the meeting straight away.

I hope everything goes well for Boromir tomorrow. I'll try and get into the meeting too. For moral support of course....what else??

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Daddy held the important meeting today. I wasn't allowed to go. He said that the matter was too important and secret for everyone to attend. I begged, pleaded, flattered and bribed....but he refused to budge. Instead he said that I could bring in the drinks tray for refreshments in the middle.

Honestly, what does he take me for? Slave labour? What about women's rights?

I was about to complain loudly when I had a brainwave. This was a perfect excuse to get into the meeting. I just had to find a reason to stay there and hear what was going on.

Time passed quickly and I saw Sam burrow himself deep into a bush. He was obviously forbidden from attending the meeting too. The bush looked incredibly prickly.

My idea was so much better.

I waited a while for them to sit down and start the meeting properly. I decided that they would be less likely to tell me to go if they were distracted. Finally, I slid silently up to the group with my tray of glasses. Eyes fixed on my task and ears pinned back, I listened to what was being said. It didn't make an awful lot of sense, something about a ring?

I slowly slid each glass from the tray to the table. Unfortunately, I finished the job too quickly and glanced up. They were ignoring me. If I could look busy, they might not notice me. Carefully, I slowly placed each glass back on the tray. When this was done, I started removing them again. I stored up the conversation to puzzle over later.

Only I had forgotten about something....or rather, somebody. Behind me, a spiteful chuckle emerged. "Daddy, Sardwen obviously can't even manage that simple task. Look, she can't decide what to do with the glasses."

Guess who.

How on earth did she manage to get in here? There she was, sitting calmly on the seat next to Daddy, a smug grin on her face.

Everyone turned to face me. Most showed expressions of scorn. A few of puzzled bewilderment looking from Arwen to me and back again. "Two of them??" one blonde elf muttered under his breath in surprise.

Give him a gold medal....for stupidity. He's certainly got the correct hair colour.

Anyway, Daddy made me leave. There was nothing I could do. I was humiliated, frustrated & angry and nobody cared. Only Boromir looked sympathetic as I slunk towards the door.

I slowly climbed the stairs and entered my room. I flung myself backwards onto my bed and watched my long hair float gently across the bedspread. At least I could think about what I had heard. Something about a ring...what ring? I tried to concentrate, but all I could see was Arwen flaunting before my eyes. I shook my head and stared at the ceiling, trying again.

The ring...the ring...Arwen laughing at me, teasing me. NO. Concentrate! I rolled over onto my belly and rested my chin on my hands, staring at the beautiful Autumn leaves out of the window. The ring....One ring...What ring?...Arwen taunting me, shoving her ring up my nose. Flash of inspiration, The ring! Arwen's engagement ring! What else could it be?

The more I thought about it, the more certain I became. They were worried about Arwen's ring, perhaps someone was trying to steal it. It must be worth a lot more than I thought, maybe it was made from Mithril? So much for Aragorn pleading poverty last time I took a collection for Daddy. How selfish can you get?

So now everything makes sense. Someone is trying to steal Arwen's engagement ring. Daddy is organising a team to take it away and hide it until the danger has passed.

I feel quite proud of myself actually. To discover what is going on when nobody tells me anything, nobody acknowledges that I exist and nobody includes me at all. This'll serve them right. I'm not stupid. I'm just as important in Middle Earth as they are. No matter what they do to me, I will overcome. I won't be forgotten and ignored any longer!


	5. Chapter Five

The fellowship left today.

I watched Aragorn and Arwen say goodbye to one another. At times like these I think that Arwen genuinely loves him. At other times I think she's just leading him on. I don't know what she really feels, It's just that...well...even though he's not that nice to me I...well...I just want him to be happy. I know that sounds really sentimental and perhaps cliché pathetic...but it's true. I just want Arwen to realise how lucky she is to have him.

I said goodbye to Boromir. He thanked me for taking the time to talk to him, said that he'd enjoyed my company. I told him to return anytime. I've said that to so many people over the years because Daddy made me. This time, I really meant it. I hope he knew that.

He said he'd think of me when things got tough, smiled once again and kissed me on the cheek. Then he turned and walked away.

Part of me wanted to call him back, to beg him not to go. But I knew better. After all, if Arwen's ring is that valuable, it must be guarded at all costs.

We all stood on the step and waved as they left. I watched them slowly climb their way up the winding path and out of sight. 4 hobbits, 1 elf, 1 dwarf, 1 istar and 2 humans, a strange mixture. I picked out Boromir and watched him till he disappeared from sight. I hope I see him again soon.

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I can't stand any more of Arwen. I miss Boromir. I'm leaving this dump.

I told Daddy that I was going to visit Granny, he didn't seem to care. He was more bothered about Arwen sulking now that Aragorn has gone.

Arwen overheard and her eyes lit up. She asked Daddy if she could go too. I knew from the evil grin she gave me, that she only wanted to ruin my visit.

But for once Daddy was on my side. At least, I thought he was. He said that it was too dangerous to journey nowadays, she could get killed by orcs or other nasties. I left to pack my bags with a grin on my face. Arwen was screaming and stamping up a terrible temper tantrum. Normally she only has to scream for a few seconds and he gives her whatever she wants. It was really funny watching her puzzled expression as she realised that Daddy was not going to give in this time. I don't think she has ever really had 'No' for an answer before.

It was only when I got back to my room that I realised the catch. Daddy was so preoccupied with the idea of Arwen facing danger, but he never even hinted that I shouldn't go. Well good riddance. If I get killed by orcs, then it will serve him right. Huh. I bet he wouldn't even care.

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I finished packing my bags and was ready to set off. I decided that I couldn't be bothered to walk all the way to Lothlórien, so I thought I'd take a horse.

I entered the cool, dark stables and found only one horse left. It was stamping about in the stall, staring at me with wild, frightened eyes. I heaved a big sigh and strode purposefully towards the stall, trying to remember my Horse Studies lessons.

"Elves have a natural ability when it comes to wild animals." I muttered, trying to reassure myself. The horse backed away from me, Its ears pricked upwards as it desperately searched for an escape route.

I opened the gate into the stall and instructed myself.

"Look deep into its eyes, think soothing...calm...trustworthy...

And for goodness sake, forget that you failed Horse Studies with such a disgusting grade. You can do this...."

I stretched out one hand nervously towards its mane. With a loud whinny of fear, the horse reared onto its hind legs, mane shaken wildly and forelegs flailing madly. I cowered backwards, my arm shielding my face. I didn't see the horse land on all its feet again, or watch it gallop out of the stables through the door I'd just left open.

Instead I felt the red hot, searing pain across my back, caused by the hard hooves of a wild horse.

I collapsed to the floor, unable to move for a while, the pain filling my whole consciousness. Eventually I managed to crawl off in agony, heading slowly towards the doorway.

I saw that horrible horse outside, galloping round in tight, frenzied circles. I scowled, wincing as the pain increased. Then I saw Arwen walking leisurely across the lawn. I felt a sadistic twinge of pleasure, that at least she would suffer too. She watched the horse silently for a moment, then walked straight up to it. She reached out to touch its mane like I had attempted to do. I watched in anticipation.

The horse stared at her and stood still. She stroked him calmly, as he nuzzled against her arm. Finally she jumped onto his back and calmly rode off.

I hate that girl.

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Arwen confronted me in the corridor today. She was angry, I could tell straight away. I knew that there would be trouble. I tried stepping past her, but she moved, blocking my way. She pushed me roughly against the wall and thrust her hand against my throat.

She leaned in close to me, her full, luscious lips right next to my ear.

"I hate you" she hissed quietly, so no one else could hear. "You have no idea how much I have always detested you. I have spent my life trying to get you out of my way, to remove you from the picture." Her voice was slowly increasing in volume.

"And despite all my efforts, you still get to follow the fellowship."

I reminded her that I was forbidden from actually following the fellowship, repeated the dire threats that Daddy said would happen to me if any of them saw me, or if I interfered in any way.

She didn't listen to me, she kept threatening me, her voice rising, then suddenly shouting "Sometimes I wish I could kill you!"

Glorfindel and Erestor were both hobbling past at the time and stopped suddenly when they heard this. They both looked stunned, shocked. Glorfindel stepped forward gingerly

"Arwen...are you ok?" he asked nervously.

"What!" she shouted. Then she checked herself.

"Sorry about that, I meant to say I'm fine, thanks for asking. See you later." She flashed them a beautifully rehearsed smile. I'm sure that made Erestor's day. At the same time she tightened her grip on my neck.

Arwen was literally choking the life out of me. Her beautifully polished nails were digging deep into my neck. I was gasping for breath, my fingers scrabbling at her hand, desperate to remove her grip.

"Arwen, please!" I gasped, trying to distract her for a second. She turned to me, an evil smile on her lips.

It was all I'd been waiting for. As she turned, I grabbed a handful of long hair and yanked her head back hard . At the same time, I raised my knee and thrust her backwards, using all my weight. She toppled to the floor, now it was my turn to take revenge.

Suddenly, everyone went silent. Fear tightened itself into a knot in my stomach. Only one person made everyone fall silent. I slowly raised my head to meet Daddy's angry, piercing glare.

I got off Arwen and stood up. She took forever to get to her feet. Moaning and holding her belly. I knew she was faking, I didn't have time to cause real pain.

Daddy turned to Glorfindel and Erestor, he asked them what happened. Erestor was gazing at Arwen, concern all over his face. He gabbled how I had attacked her, unprovoked.

I closed my eyes in disbelief. Once again I was going to get the blame. I knew that my arguments would do nothing. I gazed pleadingly at Glorfindel. If he stood up for me I might get away with it. If he blamed me I was done for. He took some time to answer, he glanced from Arwen to me and back to her again.

Arwen was glaring at him, threatening him if he dared to stick up for me. I knew a lost case when I saw one. I gazed at the floor in depression. He'd just seen what Arwen did to me. There was no way he'd risk that happening to him by telling the truth.

Finally he stammered his answer. We were both equally to blame. He flashed me a look of apology for not telling the whole truth and an appealing look at Arwen hoping she wouldn't bear a grudge. She glared evilly at him, Erestor kicked him sharply for daring to accuse Arwen.

That was when she sighed heavily and stepped forward.

"Daddy, I apologise for behaving so badly. I do not know what came over me. I have shamed myself and in my position as your daughter, I have shamed you." She knelt at his feet, took his hand and bowed her head. "Please forgive me."

Next she turned to the little crowd surrounding us and gave a similar speech, then she turned to me.

"Dear sister, I apologise for anything I may have done to hurt you. My behaviour was unreasonable and wrong. Please accept my heartfelt apologies" She knelt at my feet, taking my hand and bowing her head. Most of the crowd started applauding. She lifted her head and smirked at me "Beat that" she mouthed, before rising to her feet.

Everyone turned to me, expecting a similar performance. I was furious. She had obviously won this round. They were practically eating out of her hand again.

"She's not sorry!" I burst out. There was a shocked silence. "She's only saying it so that she won't get into trouble. It was all her fault. Not mine, and I won't apologise."

Arwen sidled up to Daddy and took his arm. She secretly smirked at me again. I couldn't stand anymore. I turned and stormed off down the corridor. If only Boromir was here, he would have stuck up for me. I began to miss him even more.

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I had to carry out my punishment today. Scrubbing all the polished marble floors by hand. I'd never realised how many marble floors we had until now. Glorfindel came up to me. I ignored him as he watched me scrub the soapy water, my hands becoming a red, raw colour. Finally he shamefully apologised and quickly scuttled away on his crutches when he saw Arwen coming.

I kept myself sane by promising myself that I would leave for Granny's tomorrow, horse or no horse. I wouldn't get revenge on Arwen yet, because that might slim my chances of getting away. Still, what's the hurry? We're both immortal, I've got hundreds of years to think up the best revenge ever.

I was so shattered, I decided to go to bed early. I got changed and turned out the light. I pulled back the cover and was about to climb in, when I noticed something. The sheet was heaving, hundreds of hairy, scuttling legs twisting and climbing over each other. I leaped backwards and gasped a sharp intake of breath. I clamped my hands over my mouth to stop the scream from coming out, until I had calmed down.

I'd never been scared of spiders, why start now? I blamed it on the sudden shock and was extremely glad that I hadn't given Arwen the satisfaction of making me scream.

Slowly, I transferred all the stowaways to the window and chucked them back outside. I then frantically stripped the bed and searched for any left over. When I was satisfied it was safe, I climbed in. I was quite proud of myself for being so dignified and grown up. Hundreds of ideas for revenge scuttled across my mind. I dismissed them, why should I sink to her level? surely, I was more civilised than that?

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Today was the day I actually managed to leave. I can't believe how long it took to get away. If I don't make a move on, I won't get there before the fellowship. They will have been and gone before I get there at this rate, then I'll have to spend years with boring old Granny with nothing to look forward to.

I carried my pack down to the stables as dusk was falling. I thought it would be safer to travel at night, nothing would see me coming and it wouldn't be so hot.

Glorfindel had got a horse ready, he held it by the mane as I clambered clumsily onto its back. (So much for an elf's natural grace) When I was ready, he let go and rested back leisurely on his crutches.

"Don't stay away too long" he grinned. I smiled coolly. I hadn't quite forgiven him for not standing up for me. The horse was impatiently stamping, I turned to go. Glorfindel raised one arm in a salute,

"Goodbye Arwen!" he called, his eyes laughing. He thought it was funny! He knew perfectly well who I was and still teased me. I was so angry.

I turned the horse around and rode quickly towards him. As I passed, I reached down and grabbed his crutches. He wasn't expecting it and collapsed in a heap with a cry of pain. I rode across the lawn, waving the crutches in triumph, finally chucking them into the waterfall pool. He wouldn't get them back in a hurry.

I rode off over the bridge and started up the winding gravel track. I'd only just started when I heard a loud piercing scream disrupt the valley. I grinned, that would be Arwen going to bed. She must have found the slugs...


	6. Chapter Six

Stupid horse.

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Stupid, stupid horse

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Why are elves supposed to like horses?

Horrible, arrogant brutes. I'm sure this one only wants to spite me. When I want it to move, it refuses to budge. And I thought I could be stubborn! Not in the league of this beast. I try gently encouraging, coaxing, bribing and it remains motionless, feet rooted firmly on the ground. Sometimes gazing at nothing in the distance, sometimes deliberately ignoring me and eating. It's always eating. Every few seconds, it bends its head down to tear up yet more grass.

It won't even respond to my threats, shouts and kicks. I know it hates me, it doesn't take much to figure that out. What I want to know is why.

And then, to cap it all off, every so often when I have finally got it to plod one foot slowly after another, it suddenly freezes, jerks its head upwards and bolts off in a random direction. I find myself clinging on for dear life. Arms desperately flung around its neck. Slowly slipping down, down towards the blur of fast moving ground and galloping horses hooves.

I really, really hate this horse.

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Last night I was camping near a small copse. I was sitting, relaxing by the fire when I caught sight of a pair of slitty yellow eyes peering at me through the gloom. My heartbeat skipped a jump, as I saw another pair slinking towards me. Close by I heard a wolf howl. A long mournful cry that made me shudder. My horse was terrified. Nervously stamping and glancing into the shadows. He desperately pulled at his tether. I tried to remember all I knew about wolves. They normally hunt in packs, picking out single victims rather than big groups. That didn't inspire me with much confidence. I was alone with only a small knife.

There were more of them now. Dark shadows creeping around the edges of the firelight. Fear began to grip me. What hope did I have? My mind turned to the stories of Lúthien, my great, great grandmother. She wouldn't have been scared of wolves. I wish I had some of her courage. Actually I wish I had her hound, Huan to scare these wolves off. That would probably be more useful.

I clasped my knees with my arms and rocked gently to and fro in the firelight. I closed my eyes so that I wouldn't be able to see the yellow eyes and glinting of white fangs.

I started to sing the story of Lúthien. Quietly at first, a whisper under my breath. Then I sang louder to block out the sounds of snarling in the shadows. I couldn't hear anything except my voice, which is quite powerful. Although at one point I thought I heard a slight whimper, but I may have imagined it.

After a while I stopped singing and opened my eyes. The wolves had gone. The night was silent. I couldn't understand it. The horse was still there, staring at me with wide, frightened eyes. But why hadn't the wolves attacked me. Was it my singing? Do I take that for an insult or a compliment?

I don't understand. What happened?

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Good news today. I saw the company far away in the distance coming down the mountain, They had obviously decided to abandon Caradhras. I wonder why. The weather is lovely at the moment, unusual for this time of year. It would probably be lovely up there, pure white snow glinting in the sunshine, beautiful blue sky stretching up behind the mountains. What more could you want? I bet it was one of the hobbits who decided to turn back. They don't look like they've got a lot of stamina. I expect their feet got cold or something. Well, nothing important anyway.

I'm in a bit of a dilemma now. My ears are still ringing with Daddy's dire threats of what would happen to me if I dared to interfere with the fellowship. He stood in front of me in the great hall at home casually describing the punishments I would face if the fellowship so much as saw me. He said that my presence could affect the course of history and blar, blar, blar....something about plot continuum. Then he paused and looked at my blank face, realised I hadn't understood a word and said

"Stay away from them Sardwen. You muck up everything you touch, and they need all the help they can get."

Huh. So much for fatherly love and installing confidence. Anyway, the basic result means that if they tell Daddy that they've seen me anywhere other than Lothlórien, where I'm supposed to be, then my life won't be worth living.

Obviously my eyesight is better than theirs. Except Legolas. If I can see him, then he can probably see me. I'm alright at the moment. I saw them silhouetted against the dazzling white snow. I could even pick out Boromir, even though he's so far away.... I would probably blend more into the background of drab greens and grey/browns at the moment. But what do I do now? that's the direction I want to head in, but I dare not get too close, even though I'd love to get a closer look at Boromir. I'm in a mess to tell the truth.

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I ignored my better judgement and followed them. If Daddy finds out, I'm dead.

I don't think they've seen me yet. They are too busy fighting their way over the dark, slimy rocks near the entrance to Moria. I can't believe they want to go that way, when they could take the lovely sunny route over Caradhras. Hobbits must be so fussy.

I've left that horrible horse behind. It can go home if it wants, I no longer care. I couldn't be bothered to fight with it any longer, it would only draw attention to myself, and I'm anxious to avoid that at all costs. So now I'm following on foot.

I've decided that I hate being a girl. Stupid dresses with so much material. Fine for looking beautiful, slowly sweeping along polished marble corridors. Absolutely useless for tramping over rocks and gorse bushes. I've probably left a trail of torn strips of material clinging to each thorn bush. I can't even see where I'm putting my feet, unless I bunch all the skirts up in my arms, and then I can't keep my balance properly. What would I give for a pair of men's breeches right now. I'm sure Daddy would be shocked at the mere thought of his daughter behaving in an unladylike fashion. Well, he's not here, so he won't know.....I hope.

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Mithrandir saw me today. He knows I'm following now, but I don't think he's told anyone else. I just caught his eye as I was peering out from behind a pillar of rock. He looked a little surprised, then smiled at me. I don't think he'll tell Daddy. Anyway, all I wanted was another look at Boromir before I reach Lothlórien. Before having to stay with the most boring Grandmother in the whole of Middle Earth.

I'm not going to actually interfere with the fellowship at all. Honestly.

Well, we're not going anywhere at the moment. They're all hanging around outside the entrance to Moria. I do believe Mithrandir may have forgotten the password. But it's so obvious. "Mellon" - Friend. It's even written on the door! How easy can it be?

But no. I can't interfere. Like Daddy said, I'd probably only muck everything up as usual.

So I'm stuck here, behind a large outcrop of black slimy rock. This place gives me the creeps. Something about the stench of dark, stagnant water and dead trees makes it really eerie. And the ripples. Ripples from a stone someone chucked into the water. They just spread across the lake, alerting anything within of our presence. Oh hurry up Mithrandir, I can't bear sitting writing this any more. Surely there must be something I can do....

Hang on....

Well, I've done it. Broken all the rules, sort of. I crept up behind the rocks until I was crouching behind Frodo. I told him the password in a whisper. He turned around suddenly and I crouched desperately behind the rock, my heart beating wildly. If he saw me, all was lost. He looked puzzled when there was no one there, then he turned back to Mithrandir and asked him the elvish word for friend as if the idea had just occurred to him. Oh well, I know I can't have the best of both worlds, but it would be nice to have a little credit on the few occasions when I do get something right.

I'd better pack up now. The door is opening and they're about to go in. I'll write more when I get the chance.

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What do I do now?

They've gone, deep into the mines of Moria. And I'm stuck outside.

How did it happen? Everything was going so well. The doors opened and they walked inside. I was about to sneak in behind them when there was a bit of commotion over a few dead bodies. I couldn't hear properly what was going on, I was more concerned with the ripples in the pool. They were coming back now. Ripples shouldn't do that...unless there was something moving quickly below the surface of the water.

Before I could say or do anything, a long tentacle emerged from the water and grabbed Frodo around the leg, dragging him back towards the pool. Why Frodo? Poor hobbit, first he gets stabbed with a Morgal blade, then he gets attacked by every other creature around. None of the others seem to suffer such bad luck.

The next few minutes were total confusion. Tentacles thrashing in the water. Screams and shouts, arrows, swords, people splashing about in the water. Aragorn hacked off a chunk of tentacle that flew through the air and landed next to me. It thrashed about limply on the ground for a second or two, as if it had a life of its own. Then it stopped moving. A slimy reminder of the creature out there. Blood oozing slowly out onto the ground. I felt quite sick looking at it to tell the truth.

They got Frodo back eventually, and made a mad dash for the entrance to Moria. The groping tentacles followed them, writhing across the slimy black stone and fingering the clefts in the rock face. Before I could get in, the creature pulled at the rock doors and caused the entire cliff to crumble, blocking the entrance.

I cradled my head as chunks of rock fell around me. The thing was frantically tearing at the hole. After a while it gave up and tried to find another entrance into the caves.

Those horrible tentacles snaked their way along the rocky ledge to where I was crouching. I watched in disgusted horror as one slithered towards me. I backed up against the wall, desperately trying not to get discovered. It moved past me and came across you dear Diary. It felt your leather bound spine, I was disgusted that something so slimy should touch your beautiful red cover. It grabbed you firmly in its grip and snaked its way back to the water. I was horrified. The idea that the creature could take you away from me. All my precious thoughts and feelings that I've spent hours writing down. I was so angry. There was no way I was going to let it get away with it.

I raced down to the edge of the pool. There were still tentacles thrashing around me. I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the tentacle that was holding you, high up above the surface of the water.

"Give it back!" I screamed. "Give me back my diary or I'll...I'll..." I paused, trying to think of something awful enough to scare that thing. Desperation seized me. What could I do? I had no secret weapon, I could never fight that thing. Was I going to lose my diary forever?

And then from nowhere, memories of the wolves flashed through my head.

"Give it back or I'll sing!" I threatened. I wasn't scared any more. The wind whipped up strands of my long dark hair. My eyes flashed in anger. Perhaps I did look a little intimidating. I remember the last time I got this angry at home. One of the elves who witnessed had to go for counselling. He would scuttle away in fear whenever he saw me for ages afterwards.

Anyway, this threat didn't seem to affect the creature. It just alerted it of my presence. A slimy tentacle stretched out towards me. I slapped it away viciously.

Then I started to sing.

I have to admit, it even sounded bad to my ears. I guess singing is one elvish talent I have not inherited. I just stood there, head thrown back, the noise coming out as loudly as I could. As I reached the high notes, the rocks started to vibrate slightly. I was glad there was no glass around.

The creature was going crazy. Thrashing and splashing about in the water. A sort of moaning, wailing sound coming from it. I almost pitied its pain. Then suddenly, without warning the diary was thrust in my direction and the tentacles sank beneath the surface of the pool. I reached out and caught it, hugging it tightly against my chest as I stopped singing. The last of the tentacles disappeared and the ripples gradually became calm again. The hollow was as eerie as when we had arrived, but now there was a huge pile of rubble where the door used to be.

So I'm safe. I got away from the entrance as fast as I could. Now I'm spending the night next to an outcrop of rock, under the shelter of a small crooked tree. I have you with me dear Diary. I nearly thought I was going to lose you like I lost my horse and almost all my other possessions. My major concern is...What on earth do I do now?


	7. Chapter Seven

I spent the night feeling extremely lonely and depressed. It was cold and dark, the wind howled around me. I longed for proper shelter or a warmer cloak.

Morning arrived at last however, I've never been so glad to see a sunrise. The sky was tinged with pink, and then the sun burst over the top of the horizon. Very pretty.

It will take more than a beautiful sunrise to help me though. I need to collect my thoughts and decide what I am going to do now. I could head for home. That would probably be the most sensible thing to do. Without a horse, it would probably take me well over a week, but if I'm sparing with the food, I might just make it. It might be good for me to discover what it is like to be really hungry.

But when I get home, I'll be no better off. I can almost see Arwen taunting me already for turning back, being pathetic.

I'm not pathetic! I won't be! I won't give her the satisfaction!

That decides it. I'm not turning back!

I'm looking up at the mountain range now. The snow is glistening softly in the sunlight, but it would be stupid to try and cross alone. Oh, I'm so frustrated! What do I do?

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I woke up to hear a sound I haven't heard for a long time. At first I thought I was dreaming. The gentle elvish voices sounded so beautiful, like home. But I opened my eyes slowly and I could still hear them. Furthermore, they were getting louder. I jumped to my feet and saw a small group of elves heading for the slopes of Caradhras.

I can't believe my luck, They're heading for Lothlórien too, and are happy to share their food and protection. I don't know them personally, but they know of my father of course. Everyone's heard of Daddy. When I expressed my gratitude for their help I told them that they would be made welcome at my father's home at Imladris any day. They looked quite impressed. One elf in particular seemed particularly pleased to hear this bit of information. I'm not sure why. Maybe he has always wanted to visit?

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This is great! Why didn't I get away from home years ago? All those years of suffering under Arwen, I never realised that life could actually be fun!

The road is long and winding, most is covered with fresh snow, but it is quite passable. I don't know why the fellowship turned back, I can see no signs of struggle. It must just be those pathetic hobbits.

We're travelling slowly, there is no hurry and the scenery is superb. The atmosphere is great too, these elves are so nice. We laugh, joke, sing - well they do. I don't want to risk dislodging nestling snow into an avalanche! They call me "Elrond's daughter" and make a real effort to make me feel part of the group. I never want this trip to end!

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I've made a new best friend. His name is Amladhron, he's the elf who was particularly pleased to hear that he would be welcome at Imladris, my father's home.

We walk together most of the time, we share funny stories, we've got a similar sense of humour and he likes making me laugh.

And when he looks at me and smiles, I feel....I feel sort of funny inside. I really like him. I feel a bit guilty though. Boromir is trapped somewhere in the darkness of tunnels beneath my feet, whilst I'm enjoying myself with Amladhron. I know that we never admitted anything, but....oh I don't know.

At the moment I'm just concentrating on this new experience for me. This sensation of being truly happy, with no sister to spoil it!

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Amladhron is so nice! He's kind & gentle, yet strong and brave too. He saved me today. I was being stupid, showing off maybe? - I don't know. But I was too close to the edge of the cliff path and I slipped. Amladhron caught me before I fell and hauled me back up. I was shaken and frightened as you can imagine. I couldn't believe that I could be so stupid (I'm firmly walking right next to the cliff face now!)

He cheered me up, told me I was beautiful. No one's ever told me that before. Arwen gets told it all the time, I think she's a bit sick of hearing it by now. I suppose I should be a bit pretty, after all I am identical to Arwen. But listening to people telling her, is not the same as being told yourself.

I thought about telling him how much it meant to me to be told that. I thought about telling him what it was like to always be second best to Arwen, but I decided not to. I don't even want to think about her, she's not here, and I am. For once, I'm going to live for me!

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We came to our first really bad fall of snow today. Amladhron held me back as the other elves gingerly edged their way over the snow. At least we can walk over it. It must be awful being so heavy that you actually sink in snow. Do humans actually feel heavy and bloatedly clumsy, or are they just used to it?

When the other elves had cleared over the snow, Amladhron leapt up lightly and reached a strong arm down to haul me up. He was laughing, his long blond hair stirring slightly in the breeze. Brilliant blue sky and warm golden sunshine. Everything was so perfect. How was I supposed to know what was about to happen?

As I scrambled on top of the snow, Amladhron pushed me back into a little cave in the rocky wall of the mountain. I opened my mouth to protest, but he placed a finger over my lips.

"Let me speak" he said softly. "For many years I have longed to meet the daughter of Elrond. At last my dream has come true, and I find that you are more beautiful than all the stories put together." I stared at him, scarcely able to believe my ears. Was someone finally saying this to me?

Amladhron took my hand in his and knelt down on one knee. "Daughter of Elrond," he continued. "I love you. Please make me the happiest elf alive and consent to be my wife."

I was speechless. I'd heard those words directed at Arwen many times, but never to me. To me! at last, after all these years someone was asking me to marry him. And not just anybody, a truly nice elf who I would love to spend eternity with.

"Yes" I managed to say at last, a huge smile spreading across my face.

Amladhron rose to his feet and clasped me in his arms. He kissed me tenderly and held me close.

"At last" he murmured softly under his breath. "Oh Arwen, you're mine at last."

A cold prickle tingled down my neck. I laughed nervously. "I'm not Arwen," I whispered gently, "I'm Sardwen."

Amladhron broke away from me suddenly.

"What did you say?" he asked incredulously. "You're not Arwen? Then...then you lied to me. You told me you were the daughter of Elrond!"

His face was turning pale, his eyes flashing icily.

"I am" I said desperately. "Arwen is my twin sister, we are both daughters of Elrond.....Amladhron..." I pleaded, reaching out towards his arm. "This doesn't change anything, I still love you.....Amladhron??..."

He silently shook my hand off his arm and backed away slowly.

"You are not who I thought you were." he said coldly, then he turned and walked out of the cave and out of sight.

I stared after him for a long time after he had disappeared. Then I slid slowly down the wall until I was sitting on the floor. I buried my face into the folds of my tattered, ripped and filthy skirt...Then I sobbed as if my heart would break.

#####################################################################

I don't know how long I cried for. Eventually one of the other elves came back to fetch me. I don't know if they realised what had happened, but they were sensitive enough not to ask.

Everything is spoilt. The sun still shines in the blue sky, but I feel as miserable as if it were raining. Amladhron and I walk separately. If I ever catch his eye, even for a second, he quickly turns away silently. The whole atmosphere has changed, even the songs and stories are half hearted now.

By the end of the day I was exhausted. Still, we'll arrive at Lothlórien tomorrow, I can't wait to get there and leave these painful memories behind me. All I want to do is forget, and how can I do that with Amladhron near me?

To think, I was so close to getting married, to living happily ever after. And once again, Arwen ruins it for me. Arwen! and she's not even here!

I so wish I was an only child.

#####################################################################

Lothlórien is beautiful. I have to admit that, even in my newly depressed state. There's something about those huge spreading trees that takes your breath away.

It's not quite so encouraging innocently walking along, and finding a taut arrow suddenly pointing at your face. Honestly, Haldir and the other guards get more enthusiastic every day. I'm sure they sadistically enjoy scaring people to death. No wonder Imladris has more signatures in its visitor book.

We didn't have an awful lot of trouble with the guards though. After all, we are elves and vaguely expected. Haldir just enjoyed strutting around importantly, he really is such a poser.

He stopped when he got to me, looked twice and beamed.

"Arwen, how lovely to see you again." he gushed slimily, taking my hand and stroking it. I pulled away angrily, enough was enough.

"Two things..." I snapped. "One, I am not Arwen, I am Sardwen as you should know by now." I didn't give him a chance to reply. "Secondly, I'm in a foul mood, and you're not helping." I stamped hard on his foot and pushed roughly past him and on towards Caras Galadhon. He hopped about on one foot for a moment making squeaking protest noises. I turned after a few strides.

"Thirdly, I'm going to find Granny." I declared to the arrows still pointing in my direction. The archers looked at Haldir anxiously, waiting for the order to shoot. I didn't care any more, they could kill me if they wished. I strode off towards the city.

No one shot me, and it didn't take long to reach Caras Galadhon. I gave a message to one of the attendants at the palace gate, who went off to tell Granny I was here. I waited patiently, hanging over the carved banister in the treetops. Dusk was falling, and the gold and silver lights were glowing in the branches. I remember sliding down this banister once when I was little. If I remember correctly, Arwen dared me to, then called Granny once I'd started. I don't think I've ever seen Granny so cross as she was then. Even the memory made me cringe. I don't mean to get on the wrong side of anyone, it's just that everything I try to do goes wrong and she only ever sees me when I'm in trouble again. Arwen's her pet of course.

I saw a couple of familiar shapes at the base of the tree. I leaned over dangerously to check. Two hobbits, I couldn't tell who. They must have arrived before me. I peered through the branches trying to make out the rest of the fellowship. I saw Legolas talking to some elves, and Aragorn in deep conversation with someone - Boromir perhaps? I hope to see them tomorrow. I also want to see Mithrandir. I desperately need to see a friendly face and I want to tell him about Amladhron. I really need to talk somebody who cares about me. I also want him to reassure me that I will find someone who loves me one day, like he told me before. I just need to hear him say it again at the moment.

The attendant came back. Granny's not going to greet me tonight. Apparently she's got a headache, and can't face the thought of seeing me now. That made me feel a lot better as you can probably tell! I stormed off to my room and locked the door.

Why doesn't anything go right for me?


	8. Chapter Eight

It took me a long time to wake up this morning. I lay in the huge 4 poster bed and enjoyed the comfort of silken sheets. After sleeping out in the open, this bed was paradise. I snuggled under the blankets happily. Even with my eyes closed I could almost see the dazzling light of Lothlórien. I could hear some people singing in the distance, their voices rising and falling in a beautiful melody. I was lying there, enviously wishing that I could sing like that too, when I finally caught the words. I jerked upright in bed, my eyes wide open, listening intently. I feverishly hoped that I had misheard the words. I'd probably just made a mistake....Please let me just have made a mistake...

My eyes filled with tears as the words continued. No...please no....

I threw back the covers and flung on a morning gown as I rushed towards the door. I ran down the polished wooden corridor, my hair and gown flowing out behind me. In the distance I saw Grandpa standing alone on the balcony. He was obviously listening to the singing as he gazed out over the city. I rushed towards him and skidded to a stop before I fell over the edge.

"Mithrandir?" I panted desperately. Grandpa turned to look at me sadly, he nodded slowly.

"I too greatly wished to speak with him" he said, before turning back to gaze over the city.

I stood frozen to the spot, unable to believe my ears. This wasn't possible, Mithrandir couldn't die. Not Mithrandir, not one of my closest friends. Not before I could tell him about Amladhron.

I turned and fled back to my room, tears streaming down my face.

#####################################################################

I spent most of the day locked in my room. I couldn't bare to face anyone, especially when I kept spontaneously bursting into tears with no warning. What's wrong with me? I've cried more in the last couple of days than I have for the last couple of centuries. Maybe I would be better off at home. Arwen is horrible and makes me angry, but at least she can't ever make me cry. I suppose I might have some reason for the tears, I mean, how often do you get hopes of happiness dashed and closest friends dying at the same time?

Granny decided that she could actually be bothered to see me today. I told the messenger that I'd just heard about Mithrandir and couldn't face seeing her now. I thought that she might have a little mercy, what with her reputation for being so kind and gracious.

But no. The messenger came back to say that Granny's diary was fully booked for the next few days. Therefore she insisted to see me now. Apparently she didn't want me wandering around before she had time to instruct me with dire warnings to behave.

So I was practically dragged before Granny. She looked at me disapprovingly and asked coldly why I looked as if I had just got out of bed and cried all morning.

I could feel my temper rising again, what did she expect? I told her coldly that my appearance looked like that, because that was what I had been doing.

Her eyes narrowed in my direction. She told me off for being cheeky. I hate Granny's eyes, they're so creepy. Half the time you feel like she's reading your mind and can tell exactly what you're thinking, the rest of the time she's instructing you, telling you off, her voice vibrating round and round your head.

She started off on her long, long list of rules and regulations, apparently I was literally forbidden from doing anything. I tried to listen and appear interested, but her voice droned on so slowly, I could feel my eyes growing heavy. After a while I could no longer distinguish the words, her voice just became a monotonous drone in the background.

Suddenly I realised she was finishing and jerked awake.

"...So I'll see you tomorrow morning" she concluded. I nodded dumbly, wondering desperately what was happening tomorrow morning.

She rose and started to leave. As she reached the doorway she turned and gazed back at me shaking her head.

"Why couldn't you be more like Arwen?" she muttered sadly.

Great. Just the way to make me feel so much better!

#####################################################################

Arrgh! I hate Granny, how can she be so evil?

I'll give her "see you in the morning". What she didn't tell me was how she was going to turn me into a granddaughter she could be proud of. In other words, a total replica of Arwen - not just physical appearance, but everything.

She made me sit and sew for hours, apparently it is a 'socially acceptable', 'ladylike' occupation. I hate sewing, I stab myself so many times that there is more blood on the cloth than stitches. Then when I had suffered enough, she found the time to talk to me about temper management and how to behave courteously at all times. Unfortunately she's heard stories of my recent behaviour such as stamping on people's feet and attacking my "darling" sister. Somehow, she'd even heard about me knocking over Glorfindel on crutches. Honestly, is there anything she doesn't know? She wouldn't give up on that for ages. How could I, her granddaughter and the daughter of Elrond treat a poor, injured elf in such a disgusting manner. By the time she'd finished, I wished I'd thrown Glorfindel himself into the waterfall pool, closely followed by Granny!

By the time she let me go I was absolutely fuming. I stormed upstairs, scribbled a sign to go on the door "DO NOT DISTURB....OR ELSE..." and locked myself in. I vowed to stay in there forever....

or at least until Granny apologised...

or until someone appreciated me for who I was...

or until I got hungry...

#####################################################################

I hadn't been in my room for more than two hours when someone knocked on the door.

"Can't you read!" I screamed. "The sign is on the door for a reason!"

"Sorry," came a voice apologetically. "I can't read elvish." I heard footsteps start to move away. I lay on my back thinking. Who on earth in this elvish city couldn't read elvish? Even Aragorn was fluent and he was human.

Unless....

I ran to the door, drew back the bolts and flung it open.

"Boromir?" I cried. He turned and looked back at me.

"I heard that you'd arrived here and were upset." he explained. "I don't want to intrude."

I called him back and apologised. We sat in my room talking for ages. I found myself telling him everything, even about Amladhron and finding out about Mithrandir's death. By the time I'd finished I was crying...again!

He took me in his arms and rocked me like a baby. I felt so stupid, so pathetic...but it was so nice to feel that somebody actually cared about what I was going through.

It was dark by the time we finished talking. He rose to leave and looked back at me.

"I know it's hard..." he started to say "But try to forget about Amladhron... he doesn't deserve you..." there was a silence, then he continued.

"You are a very special person Sardwen. No matter what people say, you are so much more than a replica of your sister... You... I..."

He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but closed it again, looking away in embarrassment.

I rose to my feet and stood close before him

"Yes?" I asked, prompting him to continue. He looked about anxiously and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know how to say this." he said at last. "Normally I'd say... I'd do..." He broke off again.

"...But I'm about to go away..." he tried to continue "...It's not right to say anything then leave with no promise when I'll be back..."

My heart was beginning to beat faster, was he really saying what I thought he was saying? I tried to meet his eyes.

"I'll wait..." I said softly, hoping I wasn't making a fool out of myself again.

He stopped still and looked straight at me.

"You would wait?" he repeated incredulously. I nodded slowly. He reached out a hand and cupped my cheek gently.

"I have little to offer you." he said "My father's realm is crumbling, my people are suffering. I cannot offer you safety and protection"

"I don't care" I replied.

It was true. How many years have I lived in safety and protection at Imladris? Was I happy? Wouldn't it be better to live somewhere more dangerous if I was with someone who loved me?

"But... your immortality..." Boromir said at last.

I was silent for a moment, I had forgotten about that. But as I thought about it, I realised that I didn't care. Why would I want to live forever if I was unhappy? Wouldn't it just be best to spend one happy lifetime rather than a thousand unhappy ones?

"I don't care about that either." I said at last. The thought of dying terrified me, but I wouldn't have to worry about that for a long time. If Lúthien, my great, great grandmother was the first elf to die, why couldn't I follow her?

I looked back at Boromir

"I'd rather be with you." I said at last with a smile.

"I almost... almost wish I wasn't part of the fellowship now" he said softly. "I hate leaving you... but..."

"But the ring must be kept safe." I sighed. Boromir jerked his head upright.

"How did you know about that?" he hissed anxiously. "Does anyone else know?"

I shook my head.

"I figured it out some time ago" I replied. "I haven't told anyone, I'm not stupid."

He relaxed again and I couldn't help feeling another wave of anger towards Arwen. If she didn't have to have such a huge, valuable engagement ring, then no one would want to steal it. Therefore the fellowship, including my Boromir, wouldn't have to risk their lives trying to keep it safe.

It was all her fault. Everything was her fault.

#####################################################################

I couldn't sleep properly, I kept thinking about Boromir. I decided to stand out on my little balcony. It was so peaceful, the trees rustling gently in the breeze, the silver lights flickering across the city. Everyone was asleep.

Except...

I saw someone walking slowly across the grass far below. Eventually I realised it was Granny. I was quite surprised, she didn't strike me as the sort of person to be awake in the middle of the night. Maybe she was sleepwalking?

I watched as one of the hobbits, (Frodo possibly?) followed her down to the hollow where she keeps her mirror. Was she going to let him look in it? I remember looking once when I was very young, I'd been staying at Granny's and I got homesick, so she let me look and see mother at home. Obviously I couldn't talk to her, and the image I saw could have been an image in the future, but it served its purpose. I was no longer homesick.

I turned from the balcony and wandered back to my bed slowly. I hadn't thought about mother for ages. It's about 500 summers since she left over the sea. I still miss her sometimes, I'm sure Daddy does. He loved her so much and tried so hard to heal her.

He loved her so much that he let her go... so that she would be happy. It must be wonderful to be loved like that. I wonder if I'm finally going to find out what it is like?

The only problem, is that if I give up my mortality to be with Boromir, I'll never see mother again. I'll never be able to tell her how happy I am. I'll always be totally cut off from all my people. Most of them I can't wait to leave, Erestor for example and possibly Granny. But to never, ever see mother again.

Am I strong enough to do this?


	9. Chapter Nine

The fellowship left Lothlórien today. How many more times will I be left behind to sadly wave as they leave before this mission is over. I stood on the bank of the calm water watching them paddle off into the distance. I watched Boromir until he became a dark speck on the horizon.

I turned sadly and slowly made my way back towards Caras Galadhon. A large group of elves were heading that way, but I wanted to be on my own. Even if only to avoid Haldir's sliminess. He has suddenly got this obsession with stroking my hand. Honestly! does he think that I'm some sort of cat?

I hid behind a tree until they had all gone. Their laughing voices faded into the peaceful silence of the woods. I avoided the main path, walking beneath the trees instead, amongst the golden Elanor. Everything was so peaceful, so calm.

Then I saw him.

My heart skipped a beat, then thundered uncomfortably. I tried to sneak back the way I'd come before he turned and saw me, but I stepped on a twig. The snap sounded so loud to my ears, I held my breath as he spun around.

His eyes narrowed as he saw me. I bowed my head and whispered an apology for disturbing him, before turning to flee.

Amladhron strode across the distance between us and spun me roughly round to face him.

"Well...look who it is" he said. His voice was cold and manipulative.

"The Impostor of Imladris... who's only aim in life is to deceive and destroy"

I was angry now. I had cried all the tears I would ever cry for this elf, and now he was openly insulting me. I lifted burning eyes to meet his cold grey ones.

"I never deceived you." I hissed at him. "I told you I was the daughter of Elrond, and that is the truth. Perhaps if you were not so ignorant, you might have realised that Elrond had two daughters."

The open insult about his ignorance made him angry. I could tell he was longing to strike me across the face, but didn't quite dare. His hand jerked by his side.

"Impostor... malingerer... equivocator... fraud." He spat each insult at me violently.

I blinked slightly at each word, his face was so close to mine, but I was no longer afraid of him. He was pathetic, nothing more.

I knew I should remain silent. He would get bored if I didn't respond and go away.

But the little flame inside me that always refuses to give in to Arwen, flared up again now. I couldn't resist pointing out his mistake.

"I don't think you mean 'malingerer'..." I said with a wry smile. "To malinger means to exaggerate an illness. I don't think even you can accuse me of that."

It was probably not the wisest thing to say. Elves are very proud of their extensive vocabulary. Pointing out his mistake was definitely hitting below the belt.

"You're just a fake and a phoney" he yelled at me as he strode away. "You'll never be anything else."

I tried not to let it show, but those last words cut quite deeply. I longed to prove that I was more than just a copy of Arwen. Did everyone agree with Amladhron? Was all my hard work in vain?

#####################################################################

I am in so much trouble.

What on earth am I going to do?

Alright, here goes. I was bored, lonely...and I missed Boromir. So I crept into Granny's hidden glade to look in her mirror. I know I shouldn't have done it, but I only wanted to see him for a moment...

There was no one around, all was silent. I filled up the dish with water, like I saw Granny do years ago. Then I rested my hands on the stone edge and peered in.

At first all I saw was darkness. Pure inky blackness. I couldn't make out anything

Then the water seemed to swirl and I saw his face. Just for a fleeting moment, then it was gone, all I could see was trees.

I was fast loosing patience, Any moment someone might come past and see me. Why was it refusing to show me what I wanted to see? I shook the dish slightly, sending ripples across the surface. The picture changed again. I squinted up my eyes in concentration, trying to work out what it was showing.

Suddenly I realised what it was. Orcs. Hundreds of slimy, fierce, flesh-eating Orcs.

My fingers tightened on the edge of the mirror as I gasped and recoiled violently.

To my horror, I jerked the bowl and it fell off the pedestal. The seconds seemed to last for ever as the great stone dish fell to the ground, water spilling everywhere.

With a crash, the mirror hit the floor and cracked into two large pieces.

I stood there, spilled water all over my dress, staring at the chunks of stone nestling on the grass. My stomach felt as if it were rising, fear tightened my belly, I thought I was going to be sick.

What would Granny say?

I still haven't summoned the courage to tell her. She's going to be so cross, I can imagine it already. I dread to think what she'll do. The mirror was one of her favourite possessions.

Maybe it can be fixed. Maybe things will turn out fine. Maybe....

ohhhh...what can I say? how can I face her? what do I do?

#####################################################################

I couldn't put it off any longer. I couldn't sleep at all last night, I've been waiting for her to find out. I'm so scared. Granny's anger is cold and calculating. Her eyes are so scary, and she messes with your mind. And that's before she uses any of her power.

It was no good. I had to confess.

I crept up to her sheepishly, my stomach churning, desperately trying to find the words to explain what had happened. How could I start?

Before I managed to say anything, she spoke to me.

"Can you believe it? They use my home as a resting place, then when they go, they leave their litter everywhere." I blinked in bewilderment, what was she on about?

"Look at this pocket handkerchief" she spat slowly, holding it up by a corner in disgust. "Just abandoned on the grass. No respect. No respect at all."

The handkerchief looked vaguely familiar. I recognised the embroided 'B' in the corner. Of course, It was Boromir's. I had seen him hold it a couple of days ago.

At first I was delighted. If I claimed it, I would have something of his to remember him by. Then I started to feel uneasy. What if he needed it. What if something went badly wrong because I had his handkerchief. Hundreds of "what if...'s" scurried through my mind. What if he needed to blow his nose and was so busy searching through all his luggage to try and find it, that he didn't hear a huge Orc come up behind him and.... No. It was too horrible to even think about. Would I ever forgive myself?

That settled it. I would try and give it back to him, before it was too late.

I took the handkerchief from Granny and turned to go. Obviously I couldn't tell her what I was planning to do. She'd be absolutely furious at the idea..... almost as furious as she would be when I told her about the mirror. In my excitement, I had almost forgotten why I was going to see Granny in the first place. I grimaced silently. It was now or never.

As I spun back around to face her I noticed a familiar face scowl at me from the crowd. I controlled my desire to scowl back as an idea struck me. Why not? I may as well kill two birds with one stone. I smiled at Granny sweetly,

"I'd better go practise my sewing, I'll see you later... Oh and Granny, what was Amladhron doing by your mirror earlier?"

With that, I skipped daintily out of the clearing leaving Amladhron staring after me with a bewildered expression, and Granny frantically hurrying to check if her mirror was safe. Revenge is sweet.

I practically ran down to the river bank, then came to an abrupt halt. What was I doing? What was I planning to achieve? How on earth was I going to get the handkerchief back to Boromir? I must be out of my mind. I sank down to the grass by the banks of the river and gazed out in the direction that Boromir disappeared in. How could I be so stupid, not to think ahead.

It was no good, I'd have to go back, there was nothing I could do.

Just then a terrible but silent shriek pierced through my brain, making me clasp my hands to my head in pain and fear. Granny must have found the mirror. What I had felt was her first telepathic energy burst of anger. I was so glad I was not in Amladhron's shoes, who must be taking the brunt of the onslaught. There was no way I was going back now.

#####################################################################

I sat there thinking for quite a long time, when I heard a muttering coming from a nearby bush. I raised my head slowly and gazed at it. As far as I knew, plants didn't talk, unless it was an Ent. There was no way that this pathetic shrub was a shepherd of the trees. So either I was imagining it... or there was somebody in there.

I crept closer, listening intently. The words were hard to make out, it seemed to be hissing under its breath. One or two words stood out.

"nasssty, hatesss it. preciousss."

It didn't make any sense. What on earth was it talking about. For that matter, what on earth was it? I reached out and picked up a long branch that was lying on the grass behind me. I carefully gripped it in both hands and poked the end deep into the bush.

The creature gave a squeal and started hissing again.

"nasssty elf, we hatesss it, doesssn't we. We eatsss it maybe. A sssnack, yesss."

I jumped backwards in alarm.

"Oh no you don't" I cried, holding the branch as a weapon. What was it? It couldn't be very big if it could fit in the bush. Therefore I wasn't too scared. But then again, appearances can be deceptive. If it thought that it had a chance of eating me... then I wasn't going to take any chances.

I stood well back and continuously poked the bush until a small grey bundle rolled out and cowered on the floor. It seemed to be all arms and legs, thin and spindly... and scared.

It gazed up at me, huge luminous eyes peering through its fingers, a few slimy strands of hair falling over its face.

"Nice Elf" It hissed pathetically. "Don't hurt me, don't hurt poor Sméagol."

"Don't hurt you" I exclaimed in disbelief. "You were going to eat me."

"Jusst a joke." Sméagol insisted hurriedly. "Nice elf, Sméagol friend"

I sighed and put down the stick where I could still reach it if I needed it. I sat nearby and looked at him for a long time.

"What are you doing here" I said at last. Sméagol's eyes narrowed at me suspiciously.

"Bagginss, preciouss" it muttered at last.

"Baggins?" I asked. "Frodo Baggins? He's gone." I pointed down the river "He's gone with... with a friend of mine. I wanted to give him this." I showed Sméagol the pocket handkerchief. He jumped backwards in fear as if it was going to bite him.

"Not for you." I laughed, hiding it again. "For my... friend." I gazed back along the river.

Sméagol started jumping up and down in excitement.

"Sméagol help. Nice Sméagol help elf... Elf help Sméagol?" he asked.

"Help, how?" I wanted to know. I was instantly suspicious. Sméagol leaned in close towards me. His huge eyes staring into mine.

"Get boat." he said.

"From where?" I asked in astonishment.

"Sméagol knows, O yess, Sméagol knows. You follow Sméagol." Then he was off, scampering through the trees on all fours. I gazed after him in alarm, where was he going? I leapt to my feet and followed him. Where did he think he was going to get a boat from, and why did he need my help?

We came to a halt just before a small boat house. I gazed at it in surprise. How long had I spent here at Lothlórien? I didn't even know that it existed. I glimpsed several boats bobbing about, tied up inside, and an elf guarding them. So that was why Sméagol needed me. I could persuade the elf to let us have a boat. I looked over at him, he was practically jumping about in excitement.

"I'll see what I can do." I said, and headed for the entrance to the boat house.

"What do you want?" The elf was surly and rude. I took a deep breath.

"I'd like to borrow a boat please." He looked at me in surprise, then started to laugh.

"So would a lot of people. Give me one good reason why I should let you." he sneered nastily. I thought quickly and put on my most haughty voice.

"How dare you speak to me like that. I am the granddaughter of Galadriel, what will she say when she knows how you've treated me." I turned to leave, my heart beating quickly. I hoped that he'd rise to the bait.

I was right. His face fell and turned an ashy colour.

"G..G..Galadriel?" he stammered nervously. I could tell he was thinking of the silent yet painful telepathic shriek that had disturbed the peace earlier.

"Oh Arwen, please accept my apologies." he gushed frantically. "Of course you can have a boat" I decided not to push my luck by insisting on my name. I just selected a boat and climbed in. The elf handed me a paddle and released the rope.

I eventually managed to paddle the boat around the corner. It took me some time. I managed to hit both banks, the single tree growing in the middle of the wide river and perform an elaborate figure-of-eight manoeuvre on the way.

Sméagol was waiting on a hidden bank. He beckoned to me furiously.

I did try to paddle towards him. Was it my fault that the boat decided to go around in circles?

Sméagol was getting impatient. He kept looking behind him as if he could hear someone coming and beckoning to me frantically. I eventually managed to get the boat reasonably close to the shore but Sméagol wouldn't wait another moment. He jumped... missed... and capsized the boat.

I caught a brief glimpse of trees and sky before the water closed over my head. I kicked frantically, trying to reach the surface. The water was cold and murky green, my sodden dress was pulling me down...down.

I used to be a good swimmer...years ago. Though I couldn't remember when I'd last tried, I was obviously out of practise, wearing the wrong clothes and taken by surprise.

My lungs were bursting now. Air... I needed air...quickly.

Suddenly, my head broke the surface. I gasped in deep breaths of oxygen gratefully. Sméagol was sitting in the boat, anxiously trying to hush my splashing.

"Coming, they iss coming!" he cried, grasping hold of my wrists.

He hauled me back into the boat. He was surprisingly strong for such a small creature. Once I'd settled down, he grabbed the paddle and quickly moved the boat around the corner. Now even I could hear voices approaching, trying to find the cause of the splashing. I dreaded to think what would happen if they found us. I might just get away with a severe scolding if Granny didn't guess what I was trying to do. But Sméagol...

Luckily, Sméagol was a quick paddler and we were soon well out of sight, down the stream. I huddled in the corner shivering, wishing I had brought a cloak or rug of some sort. If I survive this without getting pneumonia, I'll be very surprised.

#####################################################################

I dried out eventually. It was quite relaxing just sitting in the boat whilst Sméagol paddled. I did offer to take his place several times, but for some reason, he wouldn't let me. We were moving quite fast, we might catch the fellowship up soon, even though they had such a large head start.

Sméagol was hard to talk to. He spent most of his time muttering to himself. Not the best conversationalist. Half the time it sounded as if he was talking to someone, Someone he called his "precious" A girlfriend perhaps? But there was no one else in the boat. An imaginary girlfriend maybe, or perhaps he was a little mentally unstable.

I only got him talking properly once. Muttering was obviously catching, as I started grumbling about Arwen and her ring again. Sméagol's ears pricked up and he stared at me intensely.

"You know the preciousss?" he asked. I shook my head in confusion.

"No, I was talking about my sister. She's getting married and has an engagement ring with a diamond as big as a cave troll. It's too valuable to stay at home, so the fellowship have gone to hide..." I trailed off, realising what I was saying. I was giving away top secret information to practically a stranger. He seemed to have lost interest though, and wasn't listening any more.

"Just don't go and steal it now." I joked.

Sméagol leaped at me.

"Sméagol no ssteal, Sméagol no thief." he hissed. "Bagginss thief. Bagginss steal the preciouss. We hatess him, we doess." I backed away in alarm. I didn't like the evil glint in those huge round eyes. Frodo had stolen his girlfriend? Is that what he was saying, is that why he wanted to find him?

It didn't make any sense. Sméagol obviously needed psychiatric help... and quickly.

He calmed down though, and continued paddling. We must be nearly there now.

#####################################################################

We rounded yet another corner on the great river and spotted three other canoes pulled up high on the bank. There was no one in sight, yet there were several packs and various items of luggage I recognised.

I helped Sméagol haul our boat up the beach and hide it in a nearby thicket. We didn't want anyone to notice that we'd been following. I just wanted to give Boromir his handkerchief, give him a quick hug, then go home.

We were just piling the last few handfuls of bracken over the boat when Sméagol froze. He stared intently through the trees, his sensitive ears obviously listening to something I couldn't hear.

"Orcss" I heard him hiss, then he bounded away, skinny little arms and legs a blur. That was the last I saw of Sméagol. He was a bit strange, but harmless. I would never have made it down the river without him. I'll always be grateful.

I felt a bit vulnerable when Sméagol had gone. I hadn't been alone for some time.

Suddenly my brain flashed into gear. Orcs! Sméagol had heard Orcs. I thought back to the mirror, my vision of hundreds of flesh eating monsters. Fear gripped my stomach again. I half dove to unbury the boat, but something stopped me. I had travelled a long way to return Boromir's handkerchief. There was no way I was going back now.

I started up the long path. I was useless at following tracks. I didn't have a Ranger's eyes and experience, so I may have wandered around in circles.

Suddenly I heard a horn blowing, loud and clear. Boromir!

I turned in the direction of the sound and ran as fast as I could. As I drew nearer I heard cries and clashes of steel. I saw figures moving in the distance. Orcs. Huge, evil, slime covered monsters. Then I saw Boromir, he was fighting for all he was worth. I noticed two little hobbits cowering behind him. He was defending them, refusing to allow the orcs to get anywhere near.

I crouched behind a tree stump, too terrified to move, too frightened to make a sound. My eyes were big and round as I watched.... and noticed there was an arrow sticking out of Boromir's chest.

Maybe it had just caught on his jacket, maybe he was unharmed. He was still fighting strongly.

Without warning he staggered backwards from the impact of another arrow. I stifled a scream that rose in my throat. No, this wasn't happening. Where were the others? Why was my Boromir fighting those Orcs on his own? If someone could distract the rest of the Orcs, I might be able to remember enough advice from Daddy to be able to heal him. I must have waited hopefully for a full minute as Boromir struggled to his feet in a last valiant effort to take down as many Orcs as possible with him. Any minute now, someone would come. Any minute....

Then I realised. No one was going to rush to the rescue. If I didn't do something now, I could lose my Boromir for ever.

I crawled along the floor to the nearby body of a dead Orc. I grabbed his sword, a crude, metal stick, and turned back towards Boromir. Just then I saw the third and final arrow strike him. He sank to his knees for the last time, all strength gone.

I let out a scream and rushed towards the Orcs. They watched me coming in disbelief. I expect the surprise gave me an advantage.

I had never handled one of these swords before, but my anger gave me strength. Whilst the first Orc was still staring, I had sliced its head from its shoulders. The others turned on me and I waved the sword around wildly, hacking at anything that got in the way, desperately trying to keep their blades away from me.

Suddenly they turned and started to run, obviously obeying an order. I saw two Orcs grab Merry and Pippin as they passed through. I started to run towards Boromir, but there was a huge Orc in my way. It stared at me with a strange expression on its face. I saw its fist and sword come whistling through the air towards me.

I stole one last glance at Boromir...

Then everything went black....


	10. Chapter Ten

Darkness…..Cold, impenetrable blackness.

Is this what it is like to be dead?

Obviously elves don't die of old age, so what happens to them when they are killed?

Where am I?….. Will I see Boromir?

Darkness….

Orcs…..Running through the night……Bumping up and down, carried clumsily like a sack of potatoes……. Snarling faces, sharp fangs, cruel claws.

Darkness….

I don't know how long I drifted between dreams and consciousness before I awoke properly. My head hurt, a dull throbbing pain that was hard to ignore.

I am alive. For that I suppose I should be grateful... But I'm not.

Boromir is dead.

I know. I can feel it somehow. Besides, no human could survive all those arrow wounds.

I feel...numb... frozen... cold. I haven't cried yet. I haven't made a sound.

I have just existed. My lungs breathe, my heart beats... but my brain refuses to function. I should be dead too. Why am I alive? Why am I cruelly made to live alone when Boromir has gone. I whimper like a puppy and feebly beat the orc that carries me with my fists. Why didn't he kill me. It would be better to be dead than this...this living nightmare.

He just ignores me. I haven't got the strength to do any more. I feel weak...drained of all energy and spirit.

Why can't I just die?

#####################################################################

There's something weird about these orcs. They haven't stopped running yet. Not for longer than a few minutes anyway. Plus the fact that they're all so big. What are they, some sort of Super-orc?

I've got to occupy my mind with something, otherwise I'll go insane. Every time I close my eyes, I see Boromir, kneeling on the floor panting heavily, his eyes beginning to glaze over. I feel it's all my fault. I feel so guilty. I should have done something sooner. I just sat there and let him die.

Oh Boromir, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to... honestly.

I love you.

I don't think the hobbits know that I'm here yet. Merry is still unconscious, and Pippin is bouncing around so much on the back of that orc, that I don't think he's noticing anything. I stare at them intently, forcing back these feelings of guilt which threaten to overwhelm me. Focus on something else. Think. Force my brain to work again.

Why did the orcs kidnap the hobbits? Why didn't they just kill them like orcs normally do. Why didn't they kill me?

There must be some purpose behind all this. Orcs don't kidnap people for no reason. They might kill people for no reason...but not kidnap.

At least it gives me something to think about. Something to puzzle over. Something to distract me from the fact that I'm being carried along by a huge slimy orc. The fact that my wrists and feet are tied so tightly that I'm getting bruises and the fact that I'm actually terrified about what they've got in store for me.

A distraction.... probably the only thing I've got to be thankful about.

#####################################################################

We finally stopped running for a while and I was dumped on the floor. I lay on my back and bit my lip to stop myself from crying out as the impact jarred through my body. The orc who had carried me, stared at me intently. He bent over and craned his neck from side to side almost as if he was looking for something. I started to feel uneasy. It was a horrible feeling having an orc stare at me so closely.

A discussion was building up between some of the orcs. I listened intently, perhaps I could discover what was going on. The argument grew fiercer. They were deciding whether or not to kill Merry and Pippin. The big orcs wanted to take them straight to Saruman. The little orcs wanted to kill them and take them to Mordor.

The argument turned into a violent fight. I huddled backwards as far as I could out of the way, and thought about what I'd heard.

So Saruman wanted the Hobbits. Why? He'd never been interested in them before. In fact, nobody had been interested in them before. The only reason that I had anything to do with them was because Frodo was carrying Arwen's engagement ring...

Was that it? Did Saruman want Arwen's ring? Maybe he knew that one of the hobbits had it and ordered his orcs to capture them alive, so he could get it. It was all starting to make sense now. Of course, Saruman wouldn't know that Frodo wasn't here until it was too late. But that didn't explain why I was here...

The battle was over. Lots of little orcs lay dead on the ground. The leader drew himself up to his full height slowly.

"Put down your weapons" he shouted. "See what happens when you disagree with me." He pointed to the broken bodies on the ground.

"We run now to Isengard. No one will touch the prisoners, and nothing will slow us down."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pippin busy cutting his bonds on a discarded sword. So that Hobbit actually did have a brain. I was quite surprised. I watched as he worked quickly. Just a few more minutes and he'd be through. As long as none of the orcs saw him, he'd be fine.

The leader started to turn towards Pippin. I knew I had to do something... and fast.

"Hey!" I shouted. The leader and all the other orcs immediately turned towards me. I desperately tried to think of something else to say.

"Have you got a nail file, I think I've broken a nail!" I cried, and cringed internally. What a thing to say. Here I was, lying tied up on the floor, surrounded by ferocious orcs who murdered Boromir, Perhaps about to be killed myself at any moment.... and I asked for a nail file?? Perhaps my aching head was more serious than I thought.

But it did the trick. Whilst the orcs were still staring at me, Pippin managed to cut through his ropes and looped his hands through so that it looked as if he was still tied.

The leader made his way towards me, his sword pointing at my face.

"What.. is.. that!" he said in disgust. "What is she doing here?"

The orc that had carried me stood between us.

"She's mine" he snarled. "I saw her, I caught her, I carried her. Find your own."

Finally it all made sense. Saruman didn't want me, I wasn't an official prisoner. I should have been killed like Boromir, but the orc saw me and... and.... Ewwww.

I was fancied by an orc!

The two orcs faced each other squarely. The leader, Uglúk, I think his name was, versus the orc that had captured me. I watched in horror as Uglúk ordered my death.

"I am Skrakrut the Despoiler" my orc shouted. "I will not give up my elf" He held his sword up high. "No one will touch her!"

At that, other orcs leapt at him. Knives and swords flashed in the starlight. Steel clashed and orcs fell.

Skrakrut roared as he fought fiercely. I watched mesmerised. If he won, I'd be carried off as a trophy. If he lost, I'd be killed. Both options sickened me, I no longer wanted to die, especially not hacked to death by orcs. I didn't want to be a trophy either.

Suddenly, I felt a cold, steel blade slide against my throat. One of the smaller orcs had managed to creep up behind me. I couldn't move, my wrists and ankles were tied too tightly. The little orc leaned over me, his face spread into a wide grin.

"Don't make a sound" he hissed. His eyes roved over my face.

"I can see why Skrakrut wants you" he snarled, stroking my hair. Now I really thought I was going to be sick. I screamed. Skrakrut turned... and sliced off the smaller orc's head.

Lots of orcs lay dead on the ground, the rest had given up, they decided to leave me alone. Skrakrut hauled me up over his shoulder again and joined the rest of the orcs running down the hill. I bounced around on his back uncomfortably. At least I was still alive. I felt another twinge of guilt as I thought this, but I forced it out again. I was determined to escape from these creatures. But I would need all my wits about me, I could mourn for Boromir later.

The more I thought about it, the more certain I was that he wouldn't want me to mope around and long to die. He'd want me to be strong, to carry on. He'd want me to be happy again.

Huh, there wasn't much chance of that, but I knew one thing.

I was going to live.

#####################################################################

Daylight was fading again, another day had passed. I was battered, bruised and tired. I was also beginning to lose hope again. Merry actually saw me today. He blinked and stared as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Don't worry Arwen, We'll save you!" he cried before orcs ran between us and I lost sight of him. It actually made me laugh for a moment. What on earth did he think he could do? And why was he still calling me after my sister? As if she would ever get in this mess. She would just stay safely tucked away at Imladris. I bet she doesn't emerge until this whole thing is over.

I saw him excitedly tell Pippin who he'd seen. Pippin obviously told him he was hallucinating or something because every time he caught my eye after that, he screwed his eyes up tightly and muttered something to himself. It was quite funny actually.

Pippin was busy leaving tracks. I saw him drop his elven brooch in the hope that someone would find it. I don't know who. The chances of Aragorn and co. following are quite slim. They will probably continue travelling to hide Arwen's ring instead.

There is trouble brewing though. Riders, loads of them are approaching. The orcs are uneasy, running for the forest as fast as they can. I don't know who they are, but they don't look friendly. I can see the last gleams of sunlight reflecting off their shields and swords. They are obviously preparing for a battle. This doesn't look good.

#####################################################################

The riders are coming closer, loads of them.

The orcs are getting scared now. The pace has kicked up even faster, but the safety of the forest still seems a long way away. Some of the orcs panicked and broke away from the travelling mass, desperate to save their own skins. Each one was immediately picked off by an arrow from the riders.

They're closing in, cutting us off from the woods. The horses can move faster than we can. I can see further than the orcs in the dim twilight. I can see what they're doing. Enclosing us in a wide circle, It won't be long before they close in completely.

Is this it? Have I survived everything so far, only to be killed by riders?

#####################################################################

The orcs finally realised that they were surrounded and stopped. The moon was hidden behind thick cloud, and even I could see very little. The orcs huddled together uneasily. We were surrounded by a ring of little fires. The riders were there... somewhere.

Every so often, some of the riders would creep up, unseen in the darkness. They'd kill a few orcs, then melt away in the gloom again. This was the scariest battle tactic I'd ever encountered. An unseen enemy who could kill you at any time.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the hobbits talk to an orc. Suddenly it grabbed one under each arm and crept out of the protective circle. I watched, desperately straining my eyes in the gloom.

Without warning, a rider charged through the darkness and skewered that orc on the end of its spear. I heard the orc shriek, followed only by the beat of horses hooves.

I held my breath, I couldn't see the hobbits at all. Were they alright? Had they been killed as well? I couldn't see anything.

The orc's shriek roused the rest of the orcs. They noticed that the prisoners had gone and panicked. At that point, the riders attacked properly. Thundering hooves, flashing spears and battle cries. I saw the leader of the riders dismount from his horse and fight Uglúk sword to sword.

Instantly, Skrakrut grasped me and started to run. One last desperate attempt at escape. The forest loomed up out of the gloom as Skrakrut ducked and avoided the riders. We were going to make it.

Suddenly, Skrakrut collapsed to the ground with a low groan. I was pinned underneath him, the spear that had killed him just missing my arm as it emerged from his chest, burrowing deep into the ground.

I lay without moving for a moment, my chest heaving with fear, cradling my eyes with my other arm. I heard, rather than saw the rider and horse leap over our crumpled form and thunder off into the distance.

When the noises had faded further away, I tried to push Skrakrut's huge corpse off me. I couldn't move him. He was too big and heavy, and pinned to the ground by the spear. I struggled for some time, hating being trapped by a dead orc, detesting the smell of orc blood trickling down from his wound.

In the end I gave up in exhaustion. I hated feeling helpless and pathetic, but there was nothing I could do. My head was pounding again, I could hardly move. I closed my eyes and allowed the image of Boromir to fill my head. Then I must have slipped into unconsciousness.


	11. Chapter Eleven

I heard the voices first. Human voices, I couldn't make out what they were saying though. Suddenly the huge weight pressing down on me was lifted, and bright sunlight hit my eyes, making me screw them up quickly.

I heard an exclamation of surprise, then Skrakrut's corpse was dropped back on top of me. I couldn't help letting out a groan of pain, which made several other men run over. I felt the orc body being lifted off again, cautiously this time, and a steel blade was pressed to my throat.

"Who are you?" came a voice. "What were you doing with the orcs?"

I opened my eyes to see several men standing over me. The Riders. They were tall with pale blond hair flowing from under their helmets. A couple were holding spears, all were wearing burnished mail shirts. They didn't look friendly.

"I asked you a question!" The rider holding the sword to my throat was getting impatient. He was kneeling next to me in the long grass, the others standing a few steps back.

I tried to speak, my voice came as a low croak.

"The orcs attacked us... They killed.. they killed my beloved."

Tears filled my eyes once more. "They.. they took me prisoner. Please.. please help me." I stretched out my arms so that the riders could see how tightly I was bound. Sympathy appeared on their faces, and the sword pressure at my throat was relaxed.

"Who are you?" The rider at my side sounded more gentle.

I clumsily tried to brush the strands of hair from my eyes so I could see them better.

I heard a slight gasp of surprise as my ears were revealed.

"You're an elf?" One of the riders cried in surprise.

The rider at my side instantly drew a dagger and started to cut through the tight rope binding my hands together.

"Éothain! What are you doing!" Another man strode up, a white horsetail flowing as a crest from his helm. I recognised him as the leader who had fought Uglúk sword to sword. The man kneeling at my side looked up at his leader.

"I am releasing the orcs' prisoner, lord Éomer" he said.

Éomer looked at me suspiciously.

"The orcs don't take prisoners. They kill them instead. Who are you? Why didn't they kill you?"

Éothain cut through the last strands and helped me to sit up. I rubbed my sore wrists tenderly and worked out what to say.

"My name is Sardwen, daughter of Elrond of Imla... of Rivendell" I said, correcting myself to a name they might know.

"Elves." Éomer spat. "Everyone knows you can't trust elves. Were you working with the orcs?" I glared at him angrily.

"They killed the man I love. Do you really think I would be working with them!"

To my horror I realised that I was crying again. In front of strangers! I couldn't help it. I had concentrated every effort on surviving the orcs, I had never had the chance to grieve properly. It suddenly struck me like the blow of a cave troll, I had lost Boromir for ever.

I sobbed uncontrollably. Éomer looked embarrassed and strode off to supervise the piling of the orc corpses ready for burning. Éothain supported me sympathetically, I soaked his shoulder, cursing myself for being so weak and pathetic.

#####################################################################

Éomer strode back over to me. By now I had subsided to gulps, sniffs and hiccups.

"Shall we try again?" he asked coldly. "Tears don't impress me, anyone can cry. Dragons do it all the time, I've been told. Then as soon as you feel sorry for them, they attack."

I glared at him through my puffy red eyes and stayed silent.

"For goodness sake, hasn't she been through enough already!" A voice came from beside me. I stared in surprise, Éothain was standing up for me, even after I'd soaked his shoulder.

"She's told you who she is and what she's doing here, can't you leave her alone?"

A deathly silence followed this comment. Other riders stared at Éothain in horror.

The punishment for insubordination was obviously serious amongst these people. Éomer glared down at him.

"I will ignore that attack on my authority, on the grounds that you have been a good friend for many years and are obviously currently besotted with the girl. If it happens again, there will be no such excuse. Is that clear?"

Éothain glared at the ground and nodded briefly.

"I am surprised at you Éothain." Éomer continued. "What happened to your rational thinking? Have you ever.. in your entire experience.. heard of orcs taking a single woman prisoner?"

Éothain had to shake his head in defeat.

"Exactly" Éomer sounded triumphant. "And we only have her word to conflict our years of experience" he looked at me suspiciously.

"No" he continued. "I don't believe her story. I think that she was working with the orcs, working with... Saruman"

I gaped in surprise. Surely he didn't really believe that, did he?

"But they tied me up!" I cried. "look at my wrists." I held them out to him, red and raw. Éomer gave them a customary glance, then shrugged.

"Deception." he declared. "When you realised that we were going to wipe out the orcs, you were intelligent enough to work out your escape plan. Did your comrades look surprised when you asked them to bind you, or were they too stupid to realise what you were doing."

"It's not true!" I protested desperately as all the other Riders started to look at me suspiciously too.

"It was a good plan." Éomer concluded his speech, confident that all his men were now on his side.

"All my men were besotted with you." he glanced meaningfully at Éothain. "If it hadn't been for me, they would have released you to cause more havoc."

That was partly true. If it hadn't been for Éomer, son of Éomund I would have been set free. I glared at him, mentally adding his name to my blacklist.

"Gather the horses" Éomer ordered his men. "We ride now to Edoras. Théoden king shall decide what to do with the traitor."

I was hauled to my feet and dragged to the horses. Éothain came towards me holding two horses by the bridles.

"I assume you can ride?" he asked. I thought back to the horse in the stables at Imladris, and the horse that had stubbornly refused to obey my orders on the way to Lothlórien.

"Not... that well" I said at last. Éothain looked surprised.

"I thought that elves had a natural ability when it came to horses" he said.

I managed a slight smile.

"Let's just say that sometimes... certain elvish gifts don't get passed down" I replied.

He looked at me and laughed.

"You'd better ride behind me then."

It took me three attempts to get on the back of the horse. When I finally succeeded, I glanced around at the burning pile of orc bodies. There was no sign of Merry and Pippin. Either they had managed to escape last night, or their bodies were hidden in the middle of the pile. Either way, there was nothing I could do to help them.

I looked back into the dark depths of Fangorn Forest as the horses started to canter down the hill. Wherever they were, I wished them luck.

#####################################################################

It was nice being on a horse, when someone else was controlling it. I began to see why my people have always loved riding these animals. There was something about the speed.. the feel of wind flowing through your hair.. Something that made it special. I wish horses liked me. I wish Éomer liked me. I wish he'd just let me go. I'd walk home if necessary. It might take me many months, but I'd get their eventually.

Home.

Back to warm beds. Good food. No orcs. Safety. Arwen.

Well, maybe it wasn't all good!

We'd been riding for hours when I noticed something… a movement, not far away.

"What's that?" I asked pointing. Éothain looked over in the direction.

"What's what? There's nothing there. You're seeing things."

I didn't reply. I knew I could see something. Not always, just when it moved and stopped blending in with the surrounding rocks. Almost... almost like someone wearing an elvish cloak.

But that was stupid. No one around here had elvish cloaks. Except for the hobbits. And the rest of the fellowship.

Oh no, I couldn't face seeing them now. The humiliation would be too much.

"They can't see me, they mustn't see me" I cried, desperately trying to twist my thick, dark hair into mass that could be hidden down the back of my dress. Dark hair would make me stand out from the rest of the blonde riders.

"Who can't see you?" Éothain asked, puzzled. I didn't reply, just asked if I could borrow his helmet. He gave it to me, repeating his question.

"You'll see" I muttered ominously, tucking the last dark strands of hair under the helmet and trying to make myself look like a rider.

Aragorn and co. didn't even know that I'd left Lothlórien. I dreaded to think what they'd say if they saw me here, now. And what would they tell Daddy?

It didn't bear thinking about!

As we thundered past them, I saw Aragorn rise to his feet and call out. The company turned as one and rode back up the hill. Éothain looked at me strangely.

"Are those the ones that mustn't know you are here?" I nodded, trying to hide behind him. He looked at me for a moment, obviously thinking. Then he turned to Éomer.

"Lord, whoever these people may be, it would be best not to tell them about Saruman's spy." He pointed at me. Éomer regarded me, and nodded.

"You may be right." he replied. "I will not mention her. Keep her out of sight."

He rode forward to investigate who the people were.

Éothain kept near the back of the group. I tried to keep out of sight and still listen to the conversation. Apparently they were following the orcs to try and rescue Merry and Pippin. I wondered what had happened to Frodo and Sam. I only heard talk of men, elves and dwarfs. No hobbits, and I couldn't raise my head to check. I hoped they were alright.

The conversation seemed to last for ages. I was vaguely amused when Gimli reacted so violently to Éomer insulting Granny. He had obviously not seen the same side of Granny that I was used to.

I was starting to get a crick in my neck, I shifted uncomfortably still trying to remain out of sight.

Éothain must have sensed my unease. He tried once to interrupt the conversation and suggest that we headed on towards Edoras. Éomer cut him down harshly, he shut up after that.

Finally, Éomer handed two horses over to Aragorn and bade them farewell. At last, we galloped off and I could breathe easily again. I didn't remove the helmet for a long time, not until I was sure the fellowship were riding in the opposite direction. Legolas' eyes were as good as mine. They would spot dark hair amongst the blonde easily.

Éothain did ask me who the people were. But he gave up once he realised I was not going to answer. I spent the rest of the journey deep in silent thought.

#####################################################################

We finally rode up to Edoras, a small town perched on a large outcrop of rock. The flags were fluttering high in the breeze and the gates creaked open as we arrived.

The horses galloped up to the stone steps that led to a great hall. A woman with long blonde hair emerged from the large doors and hurried down the steps. Éomer dismounted and embraced the woman tenderly.

"You have returned safely." The woman sighed "Were all the orcs destroyed?"

Éomer gave an affirmation and enquired about the messenger who had alerted the news of orcs trespassing over Rohan.

"He has recovered well." The woman replied. "He was suffering only from exhaustion."

"And Théodred?" Éomer inquired. The woman hung her head sadly.

"There is nothing more we can do" she whispered. "He is dying."

Éomer bowed his head in grief.

"That is grave news indeed, sister." He looked up at the doors to the great hall.

"How does the king take the news?"

The woman shook her head, tears filling her large blue eyes.

"He doesn't seem to realise..." she trailed off.

Éomer turned to his men and ordered them to stable the horses. His eyes met mine, and he frowned.

"Come Éowyn, we will see him now together. I have other news to bring our uncle."

He held out his hand towards me and I dismounted obediently. He tightened his grip around my shoulder and bundled me towards the stairs.

Éowyn looked at me in surprise.

"Why, who is this?" she asked her brother.

"A spy of Saruman" he replied coldly as I squirmed under his iron grip. Éowyn's eyes narrowed in anger.

'Oh well, there goes another possible ally.' I thought. 'Thanks a lot Éomer.'

"Théoden can no longer ignore the facts. He must do something." Éomer continued.

Éowyn nodded slowly and followed her brother up the steps.

The doors were opened and we entered a long dark hallway. Shutters blocked out the daylight, except for the odd crack where a lone shaft penetrated the darkness. The place reminded me of a tomb. All was silent and still.

At the far end of the hall, a bundle hunched in a throne. It took me a few minutes to realise that the bundle was in fact a man. The king.

I'd never seen a man less like a king. He was just an old man, withered and shrunken. His mind twisted and confused by old age. He peered shakily into the gloom, his eyes pale and clouded. His breath, a low rasp. Almost painful to hear.

Éomer went up to the king and pleaded with him. Théoden didn't even seem to realise that he was there. His gaze went right over Éomer's shoulder into the gloomy shadows beyond. Éomer tried to talk about Théoden's son, then about the orcs plundering their lands. There was no visible response. I stole a look at Éowyn. Her face was sad, as if remembering the great king this man used to be, compared with the pathetic wreck sitting there now.

Without warning, a voice came hissing from the shadows. The owner emerged slowly. A small, slimy, hunched little man. He peered out from under heavily lidded eyes and made my skin crawl.

I was so disgusted, I stopped listening to the conversation until Éomer threw an orc helmet before the throne. He pointed out the white hand of Saruman and demanded that the king should protect his people from the orcs.

The king's advisor stared at the helmet as if his eyes would bulge out of his head. Then he turned to Théoden and told him how Saruman had always been their ally.

At this, Éomer dragged me forward as if I was the winning ace in a card game.

"Look!" he cried. "This woman was found amongst the orcs. She is a spy of Saruman, we must deal with her properly." The advisor's eyes widened slightly at this statement and he stared at me thoughtfully, pushing a strand of grease covered hair out of his eyes.

"No!" I cried, trying to defend my innocence. "I was taken prisoner. I have nothing to do with Sarum...."

Éomer clamped his hand over my mouth and cut me off mid sentence.

"She lies" he declared. I'd had enough by now. I bit his hand and kicked backwards as hard as I could. Éomer let out a cry of pain and doubled over nursing his hand.

"Guards, lock her up!" he managed to shout through gritted teeth.

Several guards came over and firmly took hold of me. They looked towards the throne for confirmation, but the king still wasn't reacting.

The advisor tilted his head slightly to one side and leered at me.

"Saruman is our ally" he said at last, glaring at Éomer. "If what you say is true, then we should treat this woman courteously, take her to a spare bedroom."

Éomer gazed at the advisor in horror.

"Wormtongue, you speak rubbish!" he cried. "That woman should be treated as a prisoner, not a guest!"

Wormtongue straightened himself up to his full height and glared down at him from the raised platform by the throne.

"I speak the king's wishes" he hissed. "This woman will be treated well!"

Éomer backed away, shaking his head in disbelief. He turned and strode out of the hall, stopping only to hiss an order at one of the guards holding me. A secure lock to be fixed on the door.

The door slammed shut behind him. The king let out a low moan at the unexpected noise. Éowyn flew to his side, and placed a hand on his arm in comfort. She peered into his eyes, as if trying to see the king she used to know and love.

The last thing I saw as the guards hustled me out of the door, was Wormtongue place his slimy hand on top of her pale, slender fingers. She jerked backwards as if she'd been shot, removing her hand far from his reach. She glared at him before storming out of the hall as well, skirts and hair flying.

Temper tantrums must be common here, reminds me of home... and Arwen.

#####################################################################

I was flung into a small room, most of the space taken up by a bed with an incredibly hard mattress. I heard the guards fix a lock on the outside door. So they were still loyal to Éomer.

I lay back on the bed and tried to concentrate on my situation. Much as I detested Wormtongue, for some reason he didn't want me to be harmed. At least that was one less thing to worry about. Perhaps if I asked him nicely, he would let me go home.

I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. This was the first time I'd been alone to think, since I left Lothlórien. So much had happened since then. If you thought about it, I'd been through quite a lot. I had lost Boromir, been captured by orcs, Survived an attack by Riders and treated as a spy.

Still, I was alive.

I think Boromir would be proud of me for not giving up. I wonder if he knows? I wonder if he's watching me from somewhere. I once heard someone say that when someone you love dies, part of them will always stay with you. I wonder if that's true?

It's a comforting thought.


	12. Chapter Twelve

I heard footsteps approaching the door, so I sat up, pushed my straggly hair out of my face and waited. I heard a muffled discussion, then the creak of a key turning in the lock.

The door opened slowly, and a dark figure shuffled inside. I was hoping that it would be Éomer, come to apologise and set me free.

No such luck, it was Wormtongue.

"Has Éomer decided to release me?" I asked anyway. There was no harm in hoping.

"Éomer has been banished from Edoras." Wormtongue gushed. "He will not bother you anymore." I wasn't sure if this was good or bad news, so I remained silent.

"We didn't get off to a good start, did we" Wormtongue continued. "May I welcome you to Edoras on behalf of King Théoden. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

I glanced around the dingy little room sarcastically.

"Well, considering that I've not eaten for days and been dragged across the country by orcs, I would like a hot bath, clean clothes, gourmet food and a 5 star bedroom with a view."

Wormtongue watched me through his heavy lidded eyes.

"I'll see what I can do" he said, and strode out. His long black cloak swept the corridors like an overgrown bat. I sat there gobsmacked. Did he really mean it? I thought I was a prisoner. This didn't make any sense.

#####################################################################

A little while later, Wormtongue returned and led me up a flight of smooth stone steps and into a large airy room. A small table was covered in food and a beautiful dress lay draped over the large bed. My attention was caught by the view from the window looking out towards the front gate of the city. I could even see the snow capped mountains across the plain in the distance.

I couldn't believe it. I pinched myself, but I wasn't dreaming.

"What about the..." I murmured softly, until I noticed a servant entering the room carrying a steaming bucket of water.

"This will be your room." Wormtongue simmered. "You are free to wander around the castle, as long as you do not attempt to leave Edoras."

So I'm still a prisoner. Just disguised behind new luxury.

I finally persuaded Wormtongue that I didn't need any more help, convincing him that I was actually able to bath myself, and he left. I don't trust that man. He's too slimy. Now Haldir was slimy, but Wormtongue is evil and slimy. Not a nice combination.

#####################################################################

The early morning sunlight filtered through my window, the distant mountain peaks tinged with a golden light. I opened the bedroom door cautiously and looked both ways down the corridor. There was no one in sight. I quietly closed the door behind me and started out to explore.

It was a great feeling to be clean again. I estimate that it was at least two weeks since I was in Lothlorien, the last time I washed my hair and wore clean clothes. I threw my old dress into the fire last night. There was no way it would ever look reasonable again. Most consisted of tattered rags covered in mud and orc blood. I guess burning that dress was a bit symbolic. I've put all that behind me now. I've got to move on.

The passageways were practically deserted. No one gave me more than a customary glance. I was quite pleased in a way. I was glad of the time to be left on my own to gather my thoughts and think. The last thing I would have wanted was to be pestered with nosy questions and unnecessary comments.

I was admiring the delicate needlework on a tapestry, when I heard heavy breathing behind me. I turned to see Wormtongue looming up out of the shadows.

"At last, we're alone." He hissed edging up towards me. I looked behind for an escape route, but came up against the hard stone wall.

"We can talk freely now" he continued, still edging closer. "Tell me, what news from Isengard, and Saruman?"

"Isengard?... Saruman?" I repeated in confusion.

"Yes, yes" he hissed. "You must have left the great wizard himself very recently with those orcs in order to get here so quickly. Tell me, did he send any message for me?"

I was still trying to edge away, realisation dawning. This man was working for Saruman, and he thought I was too. I didn't know whether to deny all knowledge or pretend in order to take control of my situation.

"We must work together if we are to succeed" Wormtongue insisted urgently. "You must tell me anything new."

I was desperately trying to work out what to say, when I heard light footsteps approaching.

"I have no new information" I told him firmly. He was about to say something else when he heard the footsteps as well. He scowled at the interruption.

"We'll talk again" he hissed quickly and quietly. "Make sure we are alone. The suspicions amongst these people are growing. I have already had to banish Éomer and his éored because he knew too much. They must not realise what is going on."

We both watched as Éowyn appeared in view. Her blue eyes widened in surprise as she saw me loose in the corridor. They narrowed when they saw who I was with. She turned on her heel and walked back the way she had come. Wormtongue followed her leaving me alone.

I'm a bit scared now. He's going to come back and ask me for information again. What on earth do I say?

#####################################################################

I could hardly sleep last night for worrying. I can't walk along a corridor without continuously checking to see if he's following me. I can't even sit in my room without panicking that Wormtongue will appear at the door.

Knowing that he is definitely going to come is the worst part. What can I say to him?

It's obvious that the only reason he's been nice to me is because he thinks I'm working on the same side as he is. Any moment now he's going to want payment for the luxurious room, food, clothes. Payment with information.

Information that I haven't got.

Should I invent a story? That would solve the immediate problem, but what if I get proved wrong? I dread to think what he would be like when angry.

No one else here trusts me. Éothain has left with Éomer and everyone else thinks I'm a spy of Saruman's, especially because Éowyn saw us talking together. Someone passed me in a corridor earlier and spat the words "treacherous spy" under their breath. I know I'm not welcome. Without Wormtongue's protection I would be in trouble.

I passed the Great Hall this evening and saw him at the other side. He caught my eye and started to weave his way through the guards towards me. I turned and fled the way I'd come, desperately hoping he wouldn't follow me.

I can't avoid him for ever, what am I going to do?

#####################################################################

Théoden's son Théodred died today. I don't know much about him, except that he was wounded by Orcs and died later from his wounds. That is more than enough to gain my sympathy. I know what Orcs can do to people. I've seen what can happen to people you love. I admit that I secretly cried a few tears for Théodred, even though I'd never met him.

I don't think I'll ever come to terms with death. For 2,777 years I've lived amongst elves, I've never seen anyone die. No one I knew well or really cared about anyway. And now suddenly I've been rudely awakened to the world of mortals. Mithrandir, Boromir and now Théodred. I've now experienced the heart wrenching pain of losing someone for ever. How do mortals cope? knowing that they will have to watch all their friends die. Knowing that one day they too will go and never come back.

I met Éowyn properly today. I told her how sorry I was about the death of her cousin, but she looked at me like I was some sort of worm crawling under a stone. She is obviously convinced that I am a spy of Saruman's. She can't understand why I have not been locked up, with the key thrown down the nearest well.

Éowyn is so cold and distant. I think her face would crack if she tried to smile. Talk about Ice Queen!

#####################################################################

I really pity Éowyn.

I can't really believe I'm saying this after re-reading my last entry, but I would pity anyone, even Arwen if they were subjected to this fate.

Wormtongue, yuck! I feel sick just to think about it.

The idea that he is always lurking there, watching, leering, ready to pounce.

I don't think much for her chances if Saruman does take complete control. I expect part of Wormtongue's wages will be the right to take her and possess her completely as his own.

Feeling really sick now. Must stop writing!

#####################################################################

I was standing peacefully in a back corridor, gazing out over the distant mountains when I heard a couple of servants rush past in a hurry. I listened to snatches of their conversation in surprise. Apparently a small group of visitors had arrived on horses belonging to the Rohirrim. They were seeing the king now. I wished them better luck than I'd had. If the king even realised that they were there, they might be in with a chance.

I headed slowly back to my room. There wasn't much else to do. To tell the truth I was feeling a bit lonely. The novelty of total peace was wearing off. I wouldn't say no to having someone to talk to.

I was just entering my room when the entire building started to shake. I clung to the doorframe desperately, trying not to fall over. I could just hear the faint rumble as if someone was shouting down below in the hall. I don't know how to describe it, but the air felt sort of heavy like before a thunderstorm. Sort of threatening as if two incredibly powerful beings were fighting over something. The walls eventually stopped shaking and I hurried inside breathing heavily. It must have been an earthquake. I'd heard of such things.

I sat on my bed and wondered why I couldn't hear anyone running about and panicking. Were earthquakes everyday occurrences here? What about the common people, wouldn't they be afraid?

I crossed over to the window and looked out. There was a small crowd of people there, but they didn't look afraid. They were all looking out across the plain as a single black rider headed hastily into the distance. I peered closer curiously and realised with a jolt of surprise that it was Wormtongue. What was he doing riding away so fast. It was almost as if he was riding for his life. What was going on?

Suddenly the door burst open and several armoured guards stood in the doorway.

"There she is!" cried one pointing, and several stormed in, grabbing hold of me, dragging me to my feet. They bundled me along the corridor ignoring my frightened questioning. What was going on, where were they taking me? Why?

At last we emerged out of the building and ducked behind the large stone staircase at the front of the hall. One of the guards stepped forward and called out,

"King Théoden, Wormtongue may have been released but we still have Saruman's other spy. She should be punished accordingly."

I struggled against the firm hands holding me in place. I couldn't see Théoden anywhere. A much younger man was walking towards us holding his sword. I noticed that he was wearing the gold circlet that Théoden used to wear. I gasped in surprise, was this some sort of revolution? Had the people risen up, killed Théoden, chased Wormtongue away and placed a younger king in his place?

Where did that leave me?

With a sinking feeling, I remembered that Wormtongue and Éothain were the only people who supported me here. Now they were both gone and everyone else thought I was a treacherous spy.

The guard led the new king over to me.

"She is working for Saruman, and betrayed us all. She should die" he said.

A icy feeling washed over me and gripped my heart.

"No" I cried desperately "It's not true. None of it's true."

I glanced around in despair. The noise was beginning to attract the attention of the people standing on the great staircase.

The king nodded to the guard who gave a hand signal. Instantly the men holding me forced me down to my hands and knees. I struggled for all I was worth, but they were much stronger than I was.

I caught a glimpse of someone in long white robes walk across the steps and look down. Probably Éowyn watching with glee, I realised miserably

One of the guards forced my head down, scooping back my hair to reveal my neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the king raise his sword slowly.

"No, please" I begged to no avail. Éowyn was still watching.... yet, hang on a second. Éowyn didn't have a beard! Nor did she have a white staff. The only person who had those was Saruman, and he wouldn't watch me being executed for being Saruman's spy. I jerked my head backwards to get a better look. My eyes widened and my jaw fell open in disbelief.

It was impossible, I knew it was impossible. He was dead... and yet he was also standing in front of me.

"Mithrandir!" I screamed as a guard forced my head back down again. I started fighting properly again, they couldn't kill me now!

"Mithrandir, help me!" I cried.

A huge hand held my head still and my hair fell over my eyes, I could no longer see anything. I imagined that sword blade being held by the new king, hovering high over my neck. I waited for it to fall.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

A huge hand held my head still and my hair fell over my eyes, I could no longer see anything. I imagined that sword blade being held by the new king, hovering high over my neck. I waited for it to fall...

"Stop!" A voice cried from above me. I let out a sigh of relief as the white robed figure hurried down the staircase and over to where I was kneeling.

"Enough blood has been spilled" he called out to the guards as he pulled me to my feet. As my hair fell back from my face, I saw him smiling at me.

"Hello Sardwen" he said. "I did not expect to see you here. You can explain later." Mithrandir quickly took charge of the situation. He turned to the young king and explained who I was. The guards looked a bit sheepish when they realised they had been about to kill the daughter of a powerful elf.

I noticed Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were also standing on the steps, but no hobbits. My heart sank. Did that mean that Merry and Pippin had been killed and burned with the orcs?

I caught Éowyn's eye for a second, but she quickly looked away. Did she still believe I was a spy, even now?

Mithrandir finished giving orders to the guards and turned back to me.

"I think you've got some explaining to do" he said as he escorted me by the shoulder back into the palace.

#####################################################################

A couple of hours later, Mithrandir had explained about the Balrog, and why he wasn't dead after all. He told me that all the Hobbits were safe, even though they were scattered across Middle Earth. He also explained what had happened with Théoden, and why he looked young again.

In return, I told him everything that had happened since he'd last seen me at the entrance to Moria. He listened as I told about Amladhron, about Boromir, about travelling down the river with Sméagol, about seeing Boromir die, about being captured by the orcs and then the Riders, finally about being considered a spy and Wormtongue trying to get information out of me.

He listened to the whole thing without speaking, waited for me to finish.

"...Are you going to tell Daddy?" I asked at last, looking at the floor. I dreaded to think what Daddy's reaction would be. He thought I was only going to Lothlórien, he absolutely forbade me to follow the Fellowship. He would be absolutely fuming when he found out.

Mithrandir still didn't speak for a while.

"I think your father already knows" he said at last. "News that you'd left Lothlórien was spreading ages ago. I think he would just be glad to hear that you are safe."

I sighed in depression.

"I bet he would be happier if I'd been killed by the orcs." I muttered under my breath.

"That's not true" Mithrandir said, tapping his pipe in my direction. "You are his daughter, he'd be very upset if he heard that you'd been killed."

"Not as upset as he would if it had been Arwen." I shot back. Mithrandir couldn't reply to this. Obviously he thought so too.

"Personally, I think it was a good thing that you left home" he said at last. "You've grown up since you've been away Sardwen, I think leaving your family behind was one of the best things you could have done."

I stared at him, trying to work out if I was really hearing what I thought.

"You mean, you think it was a good thing that I watched Boromir die, that I was captured by orcs etc?" I asked.

"That's not what I said" Mithrandir argued firmly. "I just said that you've changed since you've been away. And I think it's probably a change for the better."

"What do you mean?" I asked suspiciously.

"At the risk of sounding like a Grandfather..." he explained. "I've known you since you were a little child, I've watched you grow up, and I noticed that whilst Arwen got all the attention, you got more intelligence. However, in the last couple of centuries, you've been changing slightly, you were acting more and more like Arwen."

"Acting like Arwen?" I exclaimed. "That's not true!"

"What about taking her money to pay the psychiatrist? what about reading her diary? what about rising to the bait and fighting? What about your determination to get revenge?" he replied abruptly.

I gazed at the floor sullenly. How did he know about those things?

However, as I thought about it, I secretly knew that he was right. Just hearing them spoken aloud, they sounded like things Arwen did.

Mithrandir reached out and lifted my chin until he caught my eyes.

"That is why I am glad that you left Rivendell behind. You discovered a new way of life, both the happy times and the suffering. I am pleased to say that you no longer remind me of Arwen. You have become an individual person in a new place. I am sure that you will soon make friends who like you, rather than your sister."

"Like who" I muttered, still thinking about what he had just said.

"Well... There is Éowyn for one." Mithrandir claimed.

"But Éowyn hates me" I informed him. He smiled a secret smile as if he knew something I didn't.

"I would not be so sure of that, now she knows you are not a spy. I have a suspicion..." he trailed off.

"Are you going to make me go home?" I asked at last. Mithrandir thought for a moment.

"No" he replied. "I think you will do well here for the time being. I will send a message to your father so that he knows that you are safe, then I see no reason why you cannot stay."

That was good, it would give Daddy time to calm down before I returned. I smiled gratefully, then decided to leave Mithrandir for a while. I needed some time to think over what he had just said.

Met Éowyn in the corridors. She looked at the floor a bit sheepishly, took a deep breath, then apologised for treating me like a spy. She explained how much her brother meant to her and how she'd trusted his opinion without thinking herself.

"He doesn't normally make such a mistake" she stood up for him "I think he was just a bit preoccupied and not thinking properly. Besides, if Gandalf thinks you're harmless, then it must be true. After all, he did perform a miracle restoring our king."

Her face lit up as she spoke about Théoden, she looked really happy. Mithrandir can obviously do no wrong as far as she is concerned now. So he was right about Éowyn no longer hating me. But how did he know?

#####################################################################

Caught up with Aragorn today. He saw me from a distance, blinked a few times as if he was seeing things, his mouth gaping open. He was really disappointed when he realised it was me and not Arwen. He tried not to show it, turned quickly and marched off... straight into a little table. It looked really painful, but he still refused to acknowledge I was there, hobbling off down the corridor.

Saw Legolas and Gimli next. Gimli seemed friendly enough, greeted me cheerfully, asked me how I was and held a quick conversation. Legolas on the other hand was less welcoming. In fact, he hardly seemed to realise that I was there. Apparently gazing into space, far out across the mountains was more interesting. He turned eventually and stared at me blankly.

"Arwen?" he asked, puzzled. I left Gimli desperately trying to explain in simple enough terms that there were two of us, and I was Sardwen. He didn't seem to be having much success.

I stood on the walls and watched Éowyn riding over the plains. She looked almost as if she'd been born on the horse, so graceful, so natural. I suppose it's because horses mean so much to her people. I wish I could ride like that. I wish I could use a sword like she can too. In fact, I wish I could do loads of things that she can.

I made the mistake of mentioning this over dinner. She looked at me long and hard for a while, then offered to teach me. I snapped up the offer at once, but I'm not sure what I've let myself in for.

#####################################################################

I was rudely awoken this morning by Éowyn shaking me violently.

"Wake up" she whispered. "We need an early start."

I peeled back the covers reluctantly and peered blearily at her through the tumbles of hair covering my face.

"It's too early" I protested with a yawn. "It's still dark!" I snuggled back under the covers and closed my eyes.

"It's nearly dawn" came her reply. "I thought you wanted to learn to ride."

"I do" I sighed with another yawn. "In the morning."

Éowyn turned and walked away. I snuggled deeper thinking that I had won the argument.

Suddenly I felt icy cold water being flung over me. I let out a horrified gasp and sat up, dripping everywhere. Éowyn was standing in front of me laughing. She was holding an empty water pitcher.

"See you at the stables in 15 minutes she said." Then she left the room.

I finally managed to stumble out towards the stables. The sky was tinged with a rosy pink, the sky brightening behind the mountains. The air was chilly, I breathed out clouds of smoke.

I found Éowyn in one of the stalls, fixing the final touches to the saddle.

I leaned against the gate and yawned noisily, she straightened smiling.

"You made it at last!" she said. "Come on in, he won't hurt you." She indicated the horse. I entered the stall carefully and we eyed one another nervously. He backed up a couple of steps and snorted loudly.

"I thought we'd start you off with Slowcoach." Éowyn said soothingly.

"Slow what?" I asked in surprise.

"Slowcoach. Don't ask me, I didn't name him. He's one of the slowest, gentlest creatures in the stables. One of the horses we start our toddlers on, as they're learning to walk."

"He doesn't look particularly gentle to me" I said warily, watching his eyes carefully.

Éowyn ignored that comment as she stroked Slowcoach's mane.

"Now approach him slowly from the front" she instructed me. "Let him see your every move, and don't do anything sudden that might frighten him." I took a deep breath and shuffled a couple of steps towards the horse. He backed away slightly, his ears pricked, his eyes fixed on me.

"Come on," Éowyn encouraged me. She placed a gentle hand on Slowcoach's neck as if encouraging him as well. This time I managed to get close enough to reach out a hand and touch him. He looked terrified, trembling slightly.

"Look what I'm doing to him" I pointed out. "He's so scared of me. I know I'll never be able to ride a horse, perhaps we should stop torturing him."

Éowyn shook her head.

"I don't give up that easily" she said. "We'll get there eventually. She gently removed her encouraging hand from Slowcoach's neck. It was as if the spell was broken. Instantly, Slowcoach let out a whiney of fear and bolted to the other side of the stable.

Éowyn stood alone, hands on her hips, hair wafting slightly in the breeze. She turned her gaze from Slowcoach snorting and stamping in panic, to me huddled in fear, cradling my face in terror.

"This may take some time" she declared slowly.

Several hours later, Slowcoach finally allowed me to ride him around the stable, as long as Éowyn was standing right next to him. Éowyn seemed reasonably satisfied with this arrangement, she seemed happy enough to attempt riding outside. She quickly saddled up another horse and we took both out onto the plain. As long as Éowyn rode within a few meters away, Slowcoach would perform beautifully. As soon as Éowyn left the threshold, he would bolt wildly, normally throwing me off on the way.

For some reason, Éowyn seemed to find this hilarious. She would laugh as she helped me to my feet yet again.

"I've never seen Slowcoach go that fast!" she'd say as I shakily tested for broken bones.

It was hard to believe that this was the same Éowyn that I'd met a few days ago. She was laughing and smiling, we talked about all sorts of things, she seemed really nice.

The only time she returned to her normal expression was when we saw Mithrandir and Théoden standing by the grave of her cousin. Her expression grew cold and sad, I noticed her eyes were filling. She moved a little further away and Slowcoach bolted again. By the time she hauled me to my feet again, she was laughing once more.

"Perhaps it's time we had a change. How are your sword skills?" she asked. I looked at my feet, unsure how to answer.

"Ummmm..."

"You've got to pretend that the sword is part of you." Éowyn patiently instructed about an hour later. "Grip it, move with it, pretend it's an extension of your arm. That's what Lord Aragorn meant when he said I had some skill with a blade."

I allowed the heavy blade to touch the ground as I turned to look at her sharply.

"Éowyn, That's the third time you've mentioned Aragorn's name in 5 minutes." I leaned on the sword and smiled. "You like him don't you" I stated. She tried to meet my gaze firmly, but blushed and turned away smiling.

"Is it that obvious?" she asked.

"Éowyn..." I started to say. "I don't really know how to put this... but you're my friend... my only friend really... and I don't want you to get hurt..."

She looked at me curiously.

"The thing is... Aragorn's already got a girl... a woman he loves. The one who gave him the pendant he wears around his neck."

Éowyn stared at the floor. Her long blonde hair fell across her face and I couldn't see her expression. She didn't say anything for a long time.

"Do you know her?" she asked at last. Her voice was low and wooden. I hesitated.

"...Yes" I wasn't sure what else to say.

"What does she look like, is she pretty?" Éowyn continued.

"Well..." I said slowly. How could you describe Arwen? "She looks like... she looks… like me" I finished triumphantly. You couldn't get a more accurate description than that.

Éowyn's mouth opened in horror and her eyes filled with tears.

"You mean you've stood here and known what I'm thinking... and all the time you... I thought you were my friend!"

She turned and ran sobbing out of the stables.

I stared after her retreating figure in surprise. What was that about? What did I say?

By now, every muscle in my body was aching. I couldn't be bothered to train any longer. It wasn't as interesting without Éowyn.

I finally finished putting everything away and hobbled upstairs. I'd never been so stiff in my life. I popped my head around the door to the great hall. Éowyn was tending to a couple of half-starved children.

"I'm going to bed" I called. She didn't turn. "I said I'm tired and I'm going to bed!"

I repeated a little louder. Still no reaction.

Fine, I thought indignantly and stomped up the stairs. Ignore me, what do I matter?

#####################################################################

I suddenly woke up in the middle of the night and realised exactly what had gone wrong with Éowyn. Call me dense, but it never even occurred to me that she might think I was the one Aragorn cared about. I suppose describing Aragorn's girl as "looking like me" was a bit stupid.

I got out of bed and tiptoed along the silent corridors to Éowyn's room. The moonlight spilled through the windows, bathing the floor and tapestries in silvery light.

When I shook her awake, she was absolutely furious. Partly because she was still not speaking to me, and partly because it was the middle of the night. She screamed at me, calling me all sorts of names, then buried herself deep under the blankets waiting for me to leave.

I was made of sterner stuff than that. I'm used to insults, they don't affect me much anymore. I sat myself down in the middle of the floor, clasping my shoulders to stop myself from shivering. Then I started to explain. I started at the beginning and told her everything. I told her about Arwen and Aragorn, I explained the mistake and waited for a response. There was no reply, the huddle in the bed was silent. She was probably asleep, knowing my luck.

I sighed. Now I'd started talking I might as well continue. I told her about living with Arwen and the abuse I'd suffered over the years. I told her about how I'd always longed for Daddy to praise me for something I'd done, just once to earn his respect. For him to be proud of me. It's never happened yet.

I paused again, there was still no reply. I slowly got to my feet and silently headed for the door. My entire body was aching from the horse and the sword training. I was also absolutely freezing.

"There's a spare blanket in the corner, you must be cold." the voice came from the shadows in the bed. I turned. Éowyn was sitting up watching me, her tousled blonde hair flowing over her shoulders. I smiled, found the blanket, wrapped it around my shoulders and joined her sitting on the bed.

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Éowyn woke me again this morning. She came into my room, dark smudges under her eyes, but smiling cheerfully.

"We're moving." she informed me. "We're heading for Helm's Deep, everybody. Men, women and children. Apparently Saruman's about to launch an attack on us. We should be safe enough there."

"I'm too tired!" I complained. "My entire body is aching from yesterday's exercises, and I've only just returned to bed after talking to you all night. Let me sleep!" I huddled back under the blankets.

Éowyn reached out towards the water jug...

About an hour later I was walking out of the main gateway of Edoras with a huge party of people. Mithrandir had already gone, riding away to try and find Éomer. Éowyn was walking with Aragorn and Gimli, and for some reason, I was stuck at the end of the trail with the stragglers.

My eyes were blurry and I was hardly able to control my feet. I kept yawning, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other without falling over.

I've discovered yet another elvish trait that seems to have skipped past me. What happened to the ability to shut down my brain and sleep whilst walking? Why can't I do it?

It's just not fair.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

I leant back against the cold stone wall and closed my eyes. My legs were aching slightly as I stretched them out across the floor. A group of soldiers walked past and tripped over my feet. I gave a cry of pain and tucked them back underneath me. There wasn't a spare inch of available space in this place.

Helm's Deep.

Helm's Dump, it should be called. I have never seen such a tangled mess of narrow corridors, staircases and towers. It looks more like a children's playground than a serious defence system. Still, at least we were safe. Which is more than could be said for the men who faced the Warg riders earlier this morning. Éowyn and I were abandoned to guide the women and children to the Deep alone. Éowyn was longing to fight, I could tell. She smouldered in sulky silence for a few miles before I managed to convince her that she was doing something just as useful.

"You look shattered" Éowyn crouched down next to me and smiled. I didn't have the energy to reply. She waited a moment for a response, then burst out with what was troubling her.

"Why do you think they're taking so long?" I shrugged, trying to put the idea that they had all been slaughtered firmly out of my mind.

"He's got to be alright." she muttered under her breath, then she blushed and corrected herself. "I mean they've all got to be alright." I smiled.

"Remember what I told you about the pendant he wears" I warned gently. "Don't build your hopes up too high."

"I'm not" she replied quickly. "It's just... just that I asked him about her earlier."

"About who" I murmured sleepily, my eyes closing again. As long as I replied once in a while, she wouldn't notice if I was nearly asleep.

"The woman who gave him the pendant" she answered patiently. "He said that she had left to go with her people"

My eyes jerked open.

"What did you say?" I asked quickly. Suddenly a horn blew across the battlements.

"They're here" Éowyn cried and ran towards the courtyard. Suddenly I didn't care about the arrival. Arwen was leaving for the Grey Havens? When? What had caused this? Last thing I heard, she was determined to stay with Aragorn. Did that mean Daddy was going too? Were they all slipping away quietly whilst I was away? Were they all leaving without me?

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Ten thousand orcs…

Can this day get any better?

I don't think so.

When Aragorn didn't arrive with the other riders, I had an almost hysterical Éowyn to deal with all afternoon. That was definitely the most difficult task I've faced yet. When he finally appeared, well, let's just say I've never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life. The effect was like magic. Éowyn cheered up right away.

And then we hear the bad news. 10,000 orcs heading this way. Seeking only to kill, maim and destroy.

We're all going to die.

Well that's just great. I've travelled all this way just to be slaughtered by orcs in Helm's Dump. Excuse me if I'm not in the best of spirits.

I think I've got an excuse.

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Sorry about that last entry, I was feeling a bit depressed. We've been working hard since then, I've been so busy that my depression has totally lifted. We might just be in with a chance of survival. A very slim chance, but still a chance. And believe me, we're all going to give it our best effort.

Once again, Éowyn wanted to fight. Once again, we've been ordered to take the women and children to safety in the glittering caves. To be totally honest, I don't mind too much. I'm not particularly enthusiastic about the idea of standing on the battlements watching the orcs come.

They're recruiting almost everyone to fight. I was helping to deal out armour to old men and little kids. It was the kids that affected me the most. They should still be playing in the yard with their friends. Not standing in the front line against a ruthless army. Life isn't fair.

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The glittering caves were cool and dark. The smooth stone steps led down to the huge cavern, twinkling points of light set in the walls living up to their name. The atmosphere was so tense that you could probably have cut it with a knife. I suddenly realised what people meant when they said they could sense your fear. It was almost like an oppressing atmosphere. Heavy, dense. You could almost smell the stench of panic gathering in the cave. The women holding each other for comfort. Mothers crying for their sons and husbands. Children asking about their fathers.

I stood at the base of the stairs, holding the lighted torch above my head, gazing around at all the people huddling in groups.

I wasn't afraid.

For once in my life, I didn't fear the impending danger. I knew that our men would mostly die, that the orcs would stream in here and kill us all. But for some unknown reason, I couldn't feel the familiar grip across my stomach.

I was free.

The realisation of this hit me suddenly. I was mentally above the panic stricken group. I could think clearly and act rationally. I could help.

I spotted Éowyn moving slowly from group to group, offering words of comfort and advice. I took a deep breath and followed her lead.

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I was in the middle of wrapping a cloak securely round an old woman, when I first picked up the tremors. I froze and listened carefully. The faint vibration was travelling through the earth, a premonition of what was to come. I made my way over to Éowyn and whispered the news in her ear.

"They are coming."

She turned to face me quickly, her face cool and collected.

"We are ready for them" she announced. She sounded as if she believed what she was saying, except for the tiny flicker of doubt in her eye. I watched her gaze over her friends, her people. Her hand came to rest on the hilt of her sword. I knew that she would stand and fight at the doorway. I knew that she would die before any orcs got through to the women and children.

I knew that I had to join her.

I placed my hand on top of hers.

"My sword may not amount to much" I admitted. "But I will stand with you." She smiled at me gratefully. These were not even my people, yet I was willing to die for them. I could hardly comprehend what I was saying. I certainly would not be able to give clear reasons why I was doing it. But it felt right - and even now, I was not afraid.

As the vibrations grew louder, they materialised into a rhythmical thudding that even the people could hear. They glanced nervously at the solid rock walls, imagining the immense army that was causing the noise.

The thudding grew until it sounded right overhead, shaking the very foundations of the caves. The people looked towards Éowyn and me for comfort, somehow we had emerged as leaders and protectors. But there was nothing we could do.

Just wait...

Thud...Thud...Thud...

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Hours later, the battle still raged above us. Gradually we noticed the noise getting louder. Éowyn sidled closer to me, out of ear range from the other women.

"This is it" she whispered, her hand still on her sword. We made our way up the stairs to stand at the doorway. The battle sounds grew even louder, the orcs must have broken through. Running footsteps tore down the corridor towards us. With one fluid movement, Éowyn drew her sword and tossed her hair out of the way. Her face was set, determined. Ready to fight.

A lone soldier appeared breathlessly in sight. He stumbled against the doorframe and gasped for breath. Éowyn was at his side in an instant.

"What news?" she asked quickly.

"orcs...broken through..." the man panted. "...Flee.."

I glanced around the dark cavern. There seemed to be no way out.

"What does he mean?" I asked. "Where can we go?"

"There is a passageway through the mountain." Éowyn replied slowly. "You must go, guide them through to safety. I'll stay here and keep them back for as long as I can."

"You must guide them" I replied desperately. "I do not know these caves or passageways. I will lead them the wrong way, it will take much longer, and the orcs will be upon us."

"I cannot come" Éowyn insisted, her eyes flashing. "I cannot flee. I will stand and fight."

"You must" I insisted. "What would be the use of dying here, when your people will be lost in the tunnels and killed as well." I forced her to look down at the frightened faces turned up towards her.

"They look up to you Éowyn. They need you to lead them. I cannot lead through tunnels I do not know, You could save more lives this way, than fighting."

Éowyn looked down at the floor, her face hidden behind strands of blonde hair. At last she gave a deep sigh and re-sheathed her sword.

"Why won't anyone let me fight?" she muttered bitterly as we hurried down the steps. I gathered people together, raising the older women to their feet, and herding them all towards the dark shadows in the corner of the cave.

Éowyn was standing at the stone wall, heaving at a large rock that covered the doorway. I ran to help her, calling others to join us. The rock was heavy and difficult to move. It took a lot of effort before we created a crack large enough for the people to squeeze through.

Éowyn and I stood on either side of the chink and helped the people clamber through, one at a time.

"Go to the front, lead your people." I told her, whilst grasping the hand of a teenage girl and hauling her through the gap. Éowyn turned wide-eyed towards me. The torch casting flickering shadows across her face and hair.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I'll bring up the rear." I announced. "Don't worry about me. I'll do anything I can to save these people from the orcs."

The battle noises were getting louder, the orcs were obviously brutally battling their way deeper down into Helms Deep. We sped up the pace, continuously glancing back towards the entrance, fearing the orcs would pour through at any moment. Finally, I helped the last woman through the gap and squeezed through after her. There was nothing I could do to move the rock by myself, so decided to leave it and not waste time trying. I encouraged the people to hurry along, hoping to get a big enough gap between us and the orcs following behind.

I hated the tunnels. The dark, damp walls seemed to be closing in on me. The air was stuffy, making it hard to breathe. Occasionally, the ceiling dipped down, and we had to duck underneath. I hated that bit most of all, I was paranoid that the ceiling would fall in, and I'd be smothered and buried in this dark, airless tomb. I fought my claustrophobia as hard as I could, I found that my fear faded in comparison to some of the women. So I brought up the rear with them, I encouraged them and they encouraged me.

Éowyn led us deeper down into the depths of the mountain. Every so often we would come to a junction and she would immediately lead us on with no hesitation. She had told me once that she used to play in these caverns when she was a child. I hoped that her memory was still strong. The idea of wandering lost in these caverns was terrifying.

We were going too slowly. Even my basic mathematical skills could work out the difference in speed between women & children and vicious, fighting orcs. I glanced behind, almost expecting to see eyes looming out of the darkness. There were none yet, but what I saw was almost as bad. In the light of my flaming torch I could see the marks we were leaving. My footsteps hardly made an impression on the damp sand. But all those women and children had left a trail that even the stupidest orc could follow. They wouldn't even lose time making mistakes at the junctions. They would follow the trail and slaughter us all.

I had to do something... and fast.

I tried to force my way towards the front of the trail to talk with Éowyn. I soon realised that it was pointless. There was no way I could squeeze through so many people in the narrow, dark passageway. I walked in silence for a moment, my brain desperately trying to think of a solution. Mithrandir had once said that I was vaguely intelligent. Well, now would be a useful time for it to show.

Suddenly the pace slowed to a halt. I noticed that the women were slowly forcing themselves through a narrow crack in the wall. Obviously Éowyn was hoping that the orcs would run straight past.

I was doubtful. The orcs were not that stupid. They would easily see that the trail of footprints had suddenly stopped. Suddenly I had a flash of inspiration.

"I've got it!" I cried. The women standing near me turned to look in surprise.

"You hurry down that tunnel as quickly as you can." I told them. "Tell Éowyn not to wait for me. I'm going to create some false trails."

I hoped that the orcs would follow my fake trails and run straight past this crack without noticing. I waited for the last of the women to climb through, then I brushed away all the footprints at the entrance. I didn't have much time.

#####################################################################

It is easy to make a set of tracks if you try hard enough. Just scrape your feet along the damp sand and scuff it here and there as if you stumbled in the dim light. It is much harder to make a trail that looks as if hundreds of pairs of feet have passed through.

I continued around the corner. My torch casting huge shadows on the walls. The continuous dripping in the corner was the only sound.

I took a large branch to the left and a fork to the left again. My trail would fool the orcs if they were moving fast enough and not looking closely. My biggest problem would be what to do when they caught up with me. I put the thought out of my head and continued with my tracks. I could hear something very faintly in the distance. Something that could easily be heavily armed orcs pouring down a dark tunnel. I was eternally grateful for my elvish hearing. I estimated that I had a few minutes to make up my mind before they arrived.

If I could only make the trail just a bit longer. I was walking backwards now, scuffing the ground as hard as I could. I took one more passage to my right, rounded a corner, and felt the ground give way beneath my feet...

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As I started to fall, I nearly let out a scream of fear. I stopped it just in time, dropped the torch and flung my arms out instead. I grasped a large rock and clung to it. My shoulders jolting as I came to a halt, my feet dangling in mid air.

I moved my head slightly and looked down, watching the torch tumble down into dark crevasse. The orange light fading away to darkness. I felt physically sick and had to take several deep breaths to calm myself down.

As soon as I could think clearly, I tried to haul myself back up onto the level. Each attempt, I slipped back down again with a little shower of loose sand. Dangling above a bottomless pit is not the place to hang and think for long. Especially as my grip was slipping. My sweaty palms sliding over the smooth black rock. The panic was rising again.

I threw my legs up, one last time, and finally contacted with firm ground. I hauled myself up and lay trembling on the sandy floor. My breath came in quick, torn gulps and I felt dizzy. Without the torch, the darkness seemed even blacker. I could hear the orcs running, much closer now.

Following my trail.

I hauled myself to my feet and thrust my hair out of my eyes. I finished my trail, being careful not to get too close to the edge of the chasm. If the orcs were running, they wouldn't know it was there until it was too late. Of course, the later ones would realise what was happening to the ones in front. But this chasm should thin down the numbers slightly. Make the fight a bit fairer.

I carefully felt my way, back the route I had come. The orc noises were getting louder. I could distinctly hear the clumping of hobnailed boots, and the clanging of chainmail. I found the crack the others had passed through, and squeezed myself into it.

Only just in time.

I watched the orcs round the corner and clatter past. Most running in darkness, with the odd torch lighting up the cruel gleam in their eyes. A large number passed the crack where I was hiding. I knew that we would have had no chance if they had caught up with us. Their swords glinted in the torchlight. Sharp and cruel, many already stained with the blood of our men.

The last of the spaced out group passed by and I let out my breath in relief. I turned and felt my way cautiously along the narrow passageway. My claustrophobia wasn't affecting me as much any more. It was as if my fear of closed spaces had fallen into the chasm along with my torch.

I heard a great cry penetrate through the rocky walls. It sounded as if several voices were crying out in pain and terror. I realised that the majority of orcs must have fallen for my trap. I let out a sigh of relief, we were safe

Suddenly, I caught a distant noise. I turned and saw a lone orc peering through the crack, his torch thrust forward to penetrate the darkness. I tried to melt myself into the rock face, but it was no good. He gave a cry when he saw me and started to haul himself through the crack. I glimpsed at least two others behind him, before I turned and fled.

Running in the dark is not easy. You never know when a rock will spring out of the ground and trip you up. I tumbled over several times, cutting great gashes out of my legs and arms, the blood slowly trickling down my limbs. Each time I pulled myself up to my feet and continued running.

As I rounded another corner, I saw a small, pale speck in the distance. As I approached, I realised that it was daylight, flooding into the tunnel. The route out into the open. I pelted towards it, the orcs sounded even closer behind me, though I didn't dare to look. I put on an extra spurt of speed and dashed out into the brilliant glare of morning sunlight. I had to shield my dazzled eyes for a moment, blinking behind my fingers. Fresh air filled my lungs and replaced the musty stench of the tunnels. Freedom.

I moved further away from the tunnel exit as my eyes adjusted. I finally spotted the large group of women gathered further down the mountainside. When Éowyn spotted me, she gave a cry of relief and started sprinting up the grassy slope, drawing her sword as she ran. I drew my own sword and we stood silently on either side of the tunnel exit. I could hear the orcs coming, their ragged breathing and stumbling over rocks was unmistakable. As the noises increased, I nodded at Éowyn. We raised our swords together and waited breathlessly.

The first orc stumbled out into the clearing. The blinding flash of morning sunlight would have been the last thing he saw. The other two orcs proved the stupidity of the species. They staggered out and tripped over their comrades body before they too experienced the caress of cold steel.

We waited some time before we were convinced no more orcs had followed us down the tunnel. At last we re-sheathed our swords and headed down the mountainside together. The women stood as one body and started applauding and laughing. Some started singing a song of victory, the happy voices carrying over the mountainside.

We were free. We were alive. We were safe.

Suddenly Éowyn turned with a huge grin and flung her arms around me.

"We did it" she whispered in my ear with a smile, ignoring the tear trickling down her cheek. "We saved our people" I hugged her back, brown hair entangling with blonde in the stirring morning breeze. 'Our people' The words made me feel warm inside. For the first time I felt that I belonged.

"Thank you" she continued. "I couldn't have done that without you."

We broke apart slowly and made our way through the crowd. Smiling and laughing with the children, comforted the women worrying about their husbands. Embracing all those who needed encouragement.

I turned suddenly and noticed our army triumphantly marching over the ridge on the mountain. Mithrandir led the way on Shadowfax, his robes glistening a dazzling white. I picked out the other people I recognised, thankful that they were among the limited number of survivors. The reunion was tinged with sadness as certain women realised their husbands were not among the survivors. I turned and watched the sun rise high in the sky. A new day dawned, and we lived to see it. Who knew what the days ahead would bring. Part of me knew that last night's battle was only the beginning...


	15. Chapter Fifteen

I can't believe it, people are actually praising me! All morning, various men have sidled up to me, congratulated me on how I dealt with the orcs and thanking me for saving their wives. I kept insisting that it was nothing, that we all worked together, that I did no more than anyone else, but they won't listen.

Even Aragorn and Legolas managed to stutter a half-hearted congratulations when we were totally out of sight from everyone else. I suspect that it hurt their pride somewhat, to actually admit that my coming on this journey had a positive conclusion. I expect they'll try and hush it up over the next couple of days. After all, when the stories are written and the songs are sung of this battle… They are not going to want me to appear in them. I expect the legend will just fade away until the women and children just miraculously escaped from the caves.

I don't mind, to tell the truth, I find the attention uncomfortable. The only praise I really appreciated was Mithrandir. I know that he'll always tell me the truth.

"You did well" was all he said as he stared out over the mountain peaks. Those three simple words meant more to me than all the others.

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Éomer came to apologise to me this morning, for accusing me of being a spy.

Well… he was dragged over by Éowyn, who was standing next to him with her dagger pressed to his throat. But it was still an apology.

I think I'll just have to accept that Éomer and I are never going to be the best of friends. I don't really mind that, I'm used to avoiding certain people. It's only Éowyn who wants her beloved brother and best friend to become staunch allies.

Having Éomer around also means that Éothain is always present. At first it was nice to see him again, to thank him for standing up for me etc. But now I'm not so sure, There is a limit to the number of times you can accept flowers from someone whilst keeping a smile on your face. 3 times an hour is pushing it a bit. I'm also getting sick of telling him that I'm fine, and that there is really nothing he can do to make me more comfortable. I'm wondering about writing that last line on a piece of paper and holding it up every time he approaches. Would save my voice perhaps, but it seems a bit mean. After all, he's only trying to be nice. I'm beginning to realise why Arwen hid from her suitors.

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They've all headed off towards Isengard. Apparently Saruman has been locked up in his tower by the Ents. I'd love to go, I've never seen an Ent, but Mithrandir tactfully insisted that I would be more use here, especially as they were riding to Isengard, and even he has to admit that my experience with horses is not particularly… encouraging.

In the meanwhile, we've got to fix up some sort of temporary accommodation for everyone left behind. Helms Deep is in a bad way, with orc bodies littering every corridor. It's not very nice sitting in a corner with a gradually decomposing orc corpse by your side. We did start clearing them out, but it was the foulest job imaginable. Removing disembodied limbs, scrubbing at black blood stains and dealing with disembowelled guts was nauseating. Everyone was supposed to take turns at "Orc Duty", and no matter how hard I tried to get out of it, someone always found me to pointedly remind that I was supposed to be dragging corpses away to be burnt.

Éothain came over at that moment and asked if there was anything he could do for me. I told him he could take over my stint at "Orc Duty." He actually did it! I couldn't believe it!

Still, I'm looking forward till the remains of the fellowship come back, maybe then we'll decide what's going to happen next. For the moment, I'm stuck with the women and children. They'd better not put me in the catering department next, or the entire camp will suffer from food poisoning!

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I'm absolutely fed up of putting up tents. I've lost count of the number of pegs I've banged into the ground, my hands are red, raw and covered in blisters. I've got aching muscles and loads of bruises on my forehead from so many collapsing poles.

The white tents now cover the entire field, a movable refugee village for the people of Rohan. I spend most of my time in the women and children section with Éowyn. Helm's Deep is really starting to smell, so we've abandoned it and we're all living in a field. The worst bit is definitely the mud, especially on the routes used most often. The track to the privy is like wading through an oozing river. The food is pretty awful as well, we have to line up for hours in order to get a bowl of mush, that could be anything. To tell the truth,. I'm sick of this waiting - I think most people are. I would much rather be doing something constructive. I sound like Éowyn now, everyday she pleads to be allowed to fight, everyday she returns back to our side of the camp to sulk. And when she'd not sulking, she's talking about Aragorn!

Alright, perhaps that's an exaggeration, but this tense atmosphere means that you notice things other people do that get on your nerves.

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Éowyn insisted that I keep training with a sword and horse. She constantly reminds me that battle is not far away, and I must be prepared to fight. The sword is getting easier to use now. It still feels incredibly heavy, but it more or less goes where I want it to. I haven't been able to beat Éowyn in a match, but she's having to work a little harder at defending now. To tell the truth, I'm not particularly looking forward to using these new skills in battle. I still remember the sound of a blade cutting into flesh when I impulsively attacked those orcs surrounding Boromir. I don't ever want to have to do it again unless I have to. I really don't like it.

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I've decided that I hate little children. They're always running about under your feet, tripping you up, then they have the cheek to squeal when you stand on them by accident.

It's not all one way, they hate me too. Éowyn was rocking this baby to sleep this morning, she turned to solve another woman's problem and gave the baby to me. As soon as it touched my arms, it woke up and started to scream. I held the thrashing red bundle out to Éowyn, but she said she was busy, and could I sort it out. I didn't even know how to hold the thing. It was moving so much, I nearly dropped it. I ended up awkwardly trying to keep its arms and legs from attacking my face, and trying to stop it falling to the floor. Éowyn rescued me eventually, taking the baby with a laugh. As soon as she picked it up, it fell silent and snuggled peacefully into the nape of her neck.

"You just need more practise" she insisted as I complained, "Here, give this little girl a cuddle, she's not feeling too good." The girl in question sat awkwardly on the very edge of my knee for a few minutes, turning gradually greener and greener. Suddenly she turned to face me

"I think I'm going to be…" she gasped, and she was. Sick all over me.

Éowyn wouldn't let me give up that easily, oh no. She loves spending time in the nursery, she was determined that I should enjoy it too. She forced me to sit down in the middle of a large tent and placed various noisy, squirming bundles all around me.

"Entertain them" she cried, "You'll enjoy it once you get started.

"How" I protested, my head jerking backwards as one of them decided to swing on my hair.

"I don't know, sing to them or something" she continued, then turned to the little group she had gathered for herself.

Sing? I thought wryly as I tried to prise the sticky little fingers off my hair. She must be joking? Still, I had to do something, or I wouldn't have any hair left stuck to my head.

So I started to sing softly, the story of Lúthien and Beren. Perhaps it wasn't the most cheerful story for young children, but I reasoned that they wouldn't be able to understand the elvish anyway. It seemed to be working, they all fell silent and the tugging on my hair stopped. My confidence grew, and I sang a little louder.

Then I realised that they were silent, because they were all staring at me with horrified expressions. Then suddenly, great gaping holes appeared in the middle of their faces and they began to scream in unison. I sang a little louder above the noise, and the next thing I knew, Éowyn was at my side, her hands over her ears.

"What's that awful noise?" she cried, then her eyes opened wider as she realised.

"Stop!" she insisted. "Alright, I give in, we'll leave the nursery alone for a bit, I know you hate it, I'll do anything… Just, don't sing!"

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My brothers have arrived! I'm over the moon, it seems like ages since I last saw them. They turned up with a party of Rangers, totally unexpected, but very welcome. Elladan gave me a big hug when he saw me.

"Good work with the women and children" he whispered in my ear. I looked at him, puzzled. How did he know?

"News travels fast" he replied, smiling at my puzzled face.

"Especially good news" Elrohir chipped in, ruffling my hair. "Well done Little Sis."

I was so happy, I didn't even mind when Éothain came up with yet another bunch of flowers.

Éowyn spent most of the evening following Aragorn around, I think she was begging him to let her fight, but from the expression on her face at the moment, I expect the answer is still no.

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"Sardwen?" a voice asked softly from behind me. I turned quickly to see Glorfindel standing there, smiling.

"What are you doing here?" I asked in surprise

"We came from Imladris with your brothers" he replied.

"We?" I asked, wondering who else was going to turn up out of the woodwork. Glorfindel pointed at a dark haired elf who was busy talking to Elrohir. I could only see the back of his head, but he didn't look familiar.

"So, how are things going at home?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to hear. "Did my father..." I trailed off. I wanted to know if he'd sent a message. But if he hadn't bothered, I didn't want to know. I was in too good a mood to be disappointed.

Glorfindel smiled at me knowingly.

"It's alright, you can ask. Your father did send a message." I let out my breath with a smile.

"What did he say?" I asked eagerly. Glorfindel grinned and raised one finger to his forehead.

"Now let me think" he teased. "I can't quite remember" I laughed and hit him on the arm playfully.

"Tell me!" I insisted. "Don't keep me in suspense." He rubbed his arm, laughter still sparkling in his eyes.

"Ouch, I can't think for the pain now." he grinned, "Maybe I'll remember if you kiss it better." I stared at him incredulously.

"I'd rather kiss a cave troll" I retorted. "If you won't tell me what Daddy said, then maybe my brothers will." I turned to find them.

"Alright, you win." He grabbed my arm to turn me round. I shook him off and waited, arms folded impatiently for the news.

"He said he was really proud of you." Glorfindel reported cheerfully. "He heard how you saved the women and children of Rohan, he told me to congratulate your quick thinking and bravery." I stared at the ground, thankful that my long hair covered my face. Daddy was proud of me! I bit my lip to keep my grin from spreading. I even felt tears prickling in my eyes and blinked quickly. After all these years of trying to do something to please him, I'd finally succeeded. Daddy was proud of me!!

"…He also said he didn't think your luck would hold out any longer, and to get away from here quickly before you muck everything up." Glorfindel continued with the message reluctantly. I laughed. That sounded much more like Daddy. Still, I hadn't mucked things up too badly yet, there was still hope.

"Did my sister say anything?" I asked, half-dreading the answer.

"Yeees" Glorfindel replied warily.

"What?"

"Do you really want to know?"

I assured him that nothing she could say would shock me now, and braced myself for the message.

"Well, she screamed that she hated your guts, and hoped the orcs would finish you off." he reported apologetically. I blinked a couple of times and grinned. That sounded familiar.

"Anything else?" I asked ironically.

"Just… she said if you let Aragorn die, she'll kill you."

"That's if the orcs haven't done it already?" I questioned with a smile. It was strange, if Arwen had sent me a message like that before, I would have got really upset. But now, I didn't really care. I pitied her to be honest. I pictured her cooped up in Imladris, with no one to throw things at, whilst I was enjoying myself here. I knew what I would prefer!

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One last surprise visitor!

I was waiting in the long, winding food queue when someone stopped next to me, stared at my face for a moment, and gaped in astonishment.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. I gazed at him blankly. It was the dark haired elf I'd seen talking to Elrohir earlier. But his face… it seemed vaguely familiar.

"Don't you recognise me?" he asked. Suddenly I remembered the voice.

"Niralan?" I asked incredulously, and he nodded with a smile.

I couldn't believe it. Niralan had been one of my closest friends when I was younger, but I hadn't seen him since he stormed out of Imladris after a particularly nasty argument with Arwen.

I eagerly asked him where he had been, what he had been doing. He wanted to know what I had been up to. He already knew about Helms Deep. (Who didn't by now?)

The gap between me and the person in the queue in front began to widen. The man behind me coughed surreptitiously, I didn't notice. He coughed again, louder this time. When I still didn't move, he snorted rudely, pushed me against the canvas of the nearest tent and stormed past to join the rest of the queue. The line followed him, and I realised I would have to start queuing from the end again. I wasn't too annoyed, at least I had someone to talk to now. Niralan thinks we're moving on tomorrow. At last! After all this time waiting, things are about to start happening.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Glorfindel found me this morning as I was drawing water from the well.

He asked me if I wanted any help, but I refused. I could manage this simple task, I didn't need people to do things I was perfectly capable of. I struggled with the coarse rope, and hauled the heavy bucket to the surface, sloshing water all over my feet.

"You should have let me" Glorfindel insisted, grabbing one of my hands, and turning it upwards, the palm was hard and calloused from the rope and the sword fighting, there were even a few blisters from the bucket handle.

"So different to Arwen's" he said softly, stroking the blisters with a finger. I pulled my hand away angrily.

"Perhaps you'll be able to tell us apart at last" I retorted as I picked up the bucket and headed back to camp. He walked next to me, apologising.

"Let me finish" he continued "I was going to say that they were more beautiful" I shot him a withering glance.

"Then your eyesight is failing" I shot back. "Arwen's hands are smooth and soft" I finished a little enviously.

"Exactly" Glorfindel called triumphantly "That's because she has never laid a finger to help anyone else. Your hands tell a story. They tell of your generosity and willingness to work hard. Those qualities are more beautiful than any amount of smooth fingers." I stared at him, one eyebrow raised slightly, then continued walking in silence, I didn't know what to say to that.

"I missed you" he said softly. I stopped short, dumped the bucket and faced him, hands on hips.

"That's enough" I cried. "Go back to Imladris and tell her this stuff. I'm sick of you getting us confused."

"I'm talking to you, Sardwen" he replied. "I realised soon after you left, that chasing Arwen was the worst mistake I've ever made. As soon as I heard that your brothers were joining you, I had to come to explain…" he brushed a strand of hair from my face. "..And apologise" he finished.

"You can start by carrying the bucket" I snapped back and stormed off. Perhaps I was being a bit harsh, but I kept remembering how he had always been on Arwen's side. It would take a while for those prejudices to fade.

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I managed to tear Éowyn away from outside Aragorn's tent long enough to introduce her to my brothers. It went really well, Éowyn started asking intelligent questions about their horses - always a good move. Elladan in particular is totally batty over his animal, and Éowyn learnt to ride before she learnt to walk. They were all laughing about how I managed to miss out on those skills. Elrohir shared stories from when he was trying to teach me, Éowyn contributed by telling them how many times I had managed to fall off during her lessons. By now, I was incredibly embarrassed. I really, really wish I could ride as well as they can.

"Don't worry" Elladan smiled when he saw my face. "Some people click faster than others. I expect one day it will just come, and you'll be catching up for lost time" I smiled disbelievingly, edging a little further away from his horse's big yellow teeth.

A thought suddenly occurred to me, one that I had placed out of my mind.

"Arwen?" I asked "Has she left for the Grey Havens? Have they all gone to Valinor? They haven't left me behind have they?" Elrohir's smile faded and his eyes looked sad.

"They are preparing to leave." He admitted at last after an uncomfortable silence. "I fear they will not stay long after this battle - especially if things do not go well…"

He left the remainder unsaid, but we all knew exactly what he was thinking. The battle of Helms Deep had been an extremely costly victory. Now they were facing the entire army of Mordor. The odds did not look good.

Just then, Glorfindel and Niralan came over to say that everyone was preparing to leave. I refused to meet Glorfindel's eyes and smiled at Niralan instead, before turning to Éowyn to introduce them. She smiled and greeted them, but her gaze remained on Niralan for a little longer, a strange smile on her face.

"Have you known Sardwen long?" she asked. Niralan laughed

"We used to get into trouble together, years ago" he replied "I remember she once tricked me into painting cheerful smiles on the statues in the corridors."

"That was your idea!" I cried indignantly, "nothing to do with me!" .

"Your memory must be fading" he answered with a laugh, a huge grin spreading over his face. "As if I could possibly come up with an idea as wicked as that. Defacing ancient culture, indeed!"

"Well, they did look far too serious…" I admitted with a mischievous smile.

Glorfindel sidled up and placed a hand on Elrohir's shoulder

"We've got to go" he said simply, "Aragorn wants to set off immediately."

"He's going?" Éowyn cried, and fled towards his tent. I gave my brothers a hug and wished them luck.

"Don't get hurt, any of you" I instructed severely as if I was a schoolteacher. The wind was rising in strength, rattling the tent canvas against the tent poles and tugging at my dress and hair. Clouds covered the newly rising sun and I shivered slightly, feeling a few splashes of rain on my cheek.

"See you later, Sardy" Niralan called. I blinked in surprise, I hadn't heard that name in a long time. It reminded me of years ago when we spent so much time together at Imladris, the brief time at home when I had been happy. The memories contrasted greatly with the ominous black clouds slowly rolling overhead.

"Take care of yourself" Glorfindel added, looking back at me tenderly as he struggled to control his horse that stamped nervously. Then with a clatter of horses hooves and a flurry of mud clumps, they were gone. I watched until they all galloped out of sight amongst the tents before returning to my own. I felt cold now, pulling a shawl around my shoulders. I had this horrible feeling that I wasn't going to see them again.

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Éowyn stumbled in through the tent flap, as if she was half blind. She flung herself onto her bed and began to weep as if the world had come to an end. I didn't know what to do. I've never been sympathetic enough to be a natural comforter. I stood there awkwardly for a couple of minutes, then left the tent until she managed to calm down. I know that I hate people seeing me cry, perhaps Éowyn is the same.

I stood outside, shivering with the streaks of rain carried in the wind. As soon as I could no longer hear anything, I returned inside and sat next to her on the bed.

She looked up at me, her eyes red and puffy, damp strands of hair sticking to the side of her cheek.

"He's going through the Paths of the Dead" she whispered. Her voice a low, hoarse croak. I had never heard of such a place before, but even the name sent a shiver down my spine. I feared again for the safety of my brothers and my friends.

"He's a fool" she added bitterly, but tears appeared at the corners of her eyes again. "The Paths of the Dead…" she repeated as if still trying to believe it herself. "They will not allow the living to pass. They are walking into a trap… a deadly road. Why wouldn't he listen to me?" The shivers of horror increased as I heard more about the place. I edged a little closer to Éowyn and placed an arm awkwardly around her. She turned and buried her head in my shoulder and sobbed occasionally. We sat there in silence, rocking to and fro for a long time.

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Théoden arrived this evening. Éowyn rode out to meet him, she had dressed herself as a rider and braided her hair carefully out of the way. I knew that she was hoping to prove herself as capable to her uncle. She was longing to be allowed to travel with them as they rode on to battle.

The twilight darkened into the velvety blackness of night. The small pavilion in the centre of the camp had a small section curtained off. I entered it nervously, it was richly decorated with broidered hangings and skins were strewn across the floor. I sat next to Éowyn at the small table along with her brother and the king. I felt incredibly out of place and tried my hardest to become invisible.

Éomer glanced at me, frowned, then cleared his face when he saw Éowyn's expression. I turned away and suddenly noticed a little hobbit next to the king. It was Merry, I couldn't believe it. I wondered what had happened to him since the night the Orcs were killed by the riders. Was it just me, or did he look taller? I made a mental to talk to him later. According to Mithrandir, he had spent a lot of time with the Ents. I'd love to find out what he got up to.

I listened anxiously to the answers to Merry's questions about the Halls of the Dead. Each new description made my heart grow heavier. I played with my food, shifting it round and round my plate. I tried to estimate how far Aragorn and co. would have made it along the road. Had they entered the forbidden, dark doorway yet? How many would make it through? I shuddered and tried to turn my mind to more cheerful things.

Just then, the curtained partition was thrown aside and a guard announced the arrival of a messenger from Gondor. I looked down at my plate, even the name of Gondor still contained painful connotations of what could have been. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a tall man enter. I heard Merry choke back a cry of surprise, and I looked up quickly. My mouth dropped open, and I felt as if my stomach had fallen to my feet.

It was not possible, he was dead.

No one could survive what he went through - I knew he was dead!

But then I'd thought that Mithrandir had died as well, and he'd turned up unharmed.

"Boromir?" I breathed, so softly that no one else could hear.

The man knelt before the king and held out a black arrow, the tip dipped in bright red paint.

Then he spoke, and my hopes fell. It was the wrong voice, it wasn't Boromir. Just a man who looked so like him, he must be one of his kin.

I excused myself from the pavilion and made my way back to my tent. This was getting stupid. I couldn't spend my entire life always hoping for the dead to return. Mithrandir would have told me if there was any chance he was still alive. It was time to move on. He wouldn't want me to spend my entire life in a miserable limbo. I would put an end to it tonight, right now.

I blundered into my tent and groped through my belongings for Boromir's handkerchief. I had kept it safely all the way through my journey. I had held it sometimes at night when I had trouble going to sleep, but I didn't need it any more, I needed to move on.

I moved silently through the camp, and took down one of the burning torches from its holder. I found a large space of open ground and held the handkerchief above the flame. My hand was trembling, I couldn't hold it steady. My heart was screaming not to do it, but I ignored it and blinked back my tears.

Suddenly the bottom corner of the handkerchief turned black and a trickle of smoke winded upwards. As it burst into flames, I changed my mind. I dropped the handkerchief and stamped out the sparks. I couldn't bring myself to destroy it, it seemed almost disrespectful.

I walked a little deeper into the woods, the burning torch lighting my way, flickering shadows dancing on the trees. I stopped next to a fast flowing stream and sat down next to it. The trickling of water was the only sound in the stillness of night. I grabbed a few twigs and bound them together with a few strands of grass to make a simple raft. I laid the handkerchief gently on top and slowly lowered it into the water. The raft bobbed along in the current, quickly down the stream. I picked up the torch and followed to the first bend, then I stood alone in the darkness, watching the handkerchief float away out of sight. That was it, it was all over.

"Goodbye Boromir" I called after it, my heart felt lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. I turned silently and made my way back to the camp.

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Éowyn shook me awake again this morning, I had managed to wake up by myself for the last couple of weeks, I wondered why I had slept in, until I noticed that it was still pitch black.

"It's the middle of the night" I complained, snuggling back under my blankets. "Wake me up when it's morning"

"It is morning" She insisted, sitting on her bed, fastening her shoes.

"But it's still dark!" I pointed out smugly. "Morning means light…remember?" She ignored my sarcasm.

"We don't understand it either" she admitted. "I don't like it, I think it might be Sauron's doing. He's plunging all of middle earth into shadow."

I sat up instantly. Sauron? I didn't like the idea of that.

I quickly joined Éowyn, pulling on my clothes. I exited the tent as quickly as possible and looked up at the sky. It was dark, like a deep twilight. I could detect an oppressive atmosphere like the air before a terrible storm. It felt wrong, like an evil presence. I shivered as I realised how this battle was growing out of hand. When I had agreed to go to Helms Deep, I never dreamed that I was going to be caught up in an ultimate battle of good and evil. Especially not with an evil so powerful, it could destroy all.

I wished that I had never left Lothlorien, that I was still living peacefully out of the shadow. Then I remembered some of Mithrandir's words, it was almost as if hearing his reply in my head.

"So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for us to decide. All you have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given to you."

I smiled, as his warm comfort flooded through my body. I wasn't going to give up yet.

As soon as Éowyn emerged, we went to speak to Théoden. He was sitting in the curtained off section of the pavilion, planning his strategies for the battle. Bright, torches burned fiercely, dispelling the darkness. Éowyn practically fell on her knees before him, whilst she begged to be allowed to fight. He refused, just as Aragorn had. She begged and pleaded, but he sent us away as he prepared for battle. I could see by his face that he was troubled about her. He loved her as a daughter, and hated to deny her what she most wanted. However, I could also see he was afraid of what the battle might bring and hated the idea that a woman so young and beautiful could be slaughtered on the field.

We said goodbye to him formally, and I gave an elvish blessing, wishing the stars of hope to shine brightly in the darkness and bring him victory in battle. I waited whilst Éowyn embraced him warmly, then we returned miserably to our tent. I flung myself back on the bed and stared up through the dark gloom at the canvas roof

Then suddenly, an idea struck me. It was such an outrageous, untraditional idea, that I dismissed it at once. Then I saw Éowyn's face, cold and frustrated, her eyes full of sorrow and longing to fight, and the idea resurfaced stronger than ever.

"That's it then" she sighed, drawing her sword from her sheath and throwing it to the ground with a clatter. "Never will I be able to fight and prove myself. I will always be stuck in this stupid cage" She flung her arms up in the air and kicked the sword viciously. Then she seemed to crumple in on herself, sitting on the floor, her arms wrapped around her legs, face buried in her knees, blonde hair streaming down her back.

"I might as well give up" she muttered through mouthfuls of material.

I sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"I have an idea" I announced, "it probably won't work, but if you're that desperate to fight, it might be worth a try." She turned her face towards me, strands of hair sticking to her damp red cheeks.

"What?" she asked. "I'll try anything." Reluctantly, I explained. Her face remained expressionless until I had finished. My heart sank. What was I thinking of, I must be going out of my mind. I turned aside in embarrassment, but she grabbed hold of my shoulder.

"That might just work" she said slowly, thinking over everything I said. "At the very least, it's worth a try" She rose to her feet and pulled me up

"Come on" she insisted, "We've got a lot of work to do."

#####################################################################

"Ouch" I cried as the pin dug deeply into my head. Éowyn apologised and tried again. I shuddered, trying to ignore how much she was tugging. At last she was satisfied and held up a mirror. All my hair was pinned firmly in place. I shook my head violently, but it remained fast bound. She passed me a helmet, and I eased it onto my head slowly.

"There!" Éowyn cried triumphantly, "Instant lack of hair, you look like a man already!" I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult - but she was right. From a distance, I probably would pass for a soldier.

"Here" she called, handing me some bandages.

"What are these for?" I asked "We're not wounded yet, are we?" She laughed.

"Course not, but in case you'd forgotten, we've got to fit into suits of armour designed for men, Therefore, certain parts of the body need to be bound firmly into place like your hair. I turned aside blushing madly as I unwound the bandages. I knew I should have kept my idea to myself, this was just too humiliating.

"By the way" Éowyn added. "Thank you for sharing your idea, it means so much to me - the chance to fight. I know you're not so keen, I owe you a big favour." I stared at her, could she read my mind? Still, I didn't mind so much anymore.

A few minutes later, we were ready. We checked each other over, tucking last stands of hair out of sight, and adjusting clothing. We were ready to set off - riding off to battle, Responding to the desperate plea of the red arrow. The horses were waiting, Éowyn was riding her grey steed, Windfola. I would be attempting to stay upright on a chestnut horse called Andante. My stomach was churning already, even after all the time I'd spent practising, he was still likely to bolt if Éowyn moved too far away.

"I'll ride by your side" she promised, looking at my face. "Everything will be fine, I promise." I wasn't sure if her promise would guard against enemy attack.

I mounted Andante and looked around uneasily, the riders were about to leave, there was no turning back now. Then I spotted a forlorn little figure standing alone, watching the horses leave.

"Éowyn… sorry, Durnhelm" I called, forgetting her new name already. "Let's take Merry with us, he also knows what it is like to be left behind." Éowyn turned to look at him and nodded.

"You're right" she replied "I can bear him under my cloak." She nudged Windfola gently and rode over to speak to him.

Everybody turned out to watch us leave. The entire camp was emptied, women and children lined the road to say goodbye to their loved ones. Occasionally I could hear a soft murmuring or a low weeping. But generally they stood in silence.

Finally a single trumpet sounded and Théoden raised one hand in the air, all eyes were fixed on him as he made his way slowly through the people. He sat tall and proud on his white horse, his face frozen to hide any true emotions.

We followed him down the silent, depressing corridor of people. Lines and lines of young men, riding out to battle, leaving their mothers, wives and children. All prepared to die for their king.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

We are riding as fast and as hard as we can. Day after day… after day. It is a long, lonely journey. I dare not talk to any other soldier, or even to Éowyn, for fear of someone realising that we are female.

Mile after mile, plenty of time to spend thinking. I think of home quite a lot, Daddy and Arwen… I think of my life now with Éowyn, This is so much better than the last few hundred years at home, but I wouldn't want to spend my entire life here, Part of me longs to stay with my own people, perhaps to sail to the West. I'd see mother again, and Daddy might not be so grumpy when he returns to her. But I'd still be on my own. It seems that I'm meant to be solitary forever. First Arwen's taunting, then Amladhron, then Boromir. I don't think I'm ever meant to find a husband.

I found myself continuously thinking of Glorfindel, always going over what he said by the well. Was he telling the truth? I don't know if I'll ever be able to shake off his reputation with Arwen. Call me prejudiced, but it's not that easy. First impressions are incredibly difficult to remove.

I think about Niralan as well, I haven't seen him for so long, it's incredible that he's just turned up. I wish I had time to talk to him properly, to find out what he has been up to. I keep reliving all those childhood memories, we used to have so much fun. The number of times I managed to escape from lessons and run wildly into the woods to climb trees with him. I also remember how angry Mother got with all the ripped dresses I sheepishly tried to hide in my bedroom when I returned.

Niralan was one of the only people I felt comfortable with. No matter how much Arwen taunted me, or how cross my parents were, he was always my friend. I'd forgotten how much I had missed him.

I just hope we all survive this coming battle.

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We have found a guide to lead us through the mountain paths. One of the wildmen, a stumpy, gnarled little man has offered to lead us around the huge troops of orcs waiting in ambush. They call him Ghân-buri-Ghân. At least, I think that is his name. His speech is so guttural and basic that it is quite difficult to understand him.

Still, he seems to be reliable enough. I don't think he will lead us into danger. Going through the secret tracks in the mountains means that the enemy won't know that we are coming. We'll also avoid all the traps and pits that have been dug in the normal routes. The progress is slow, we can only ride a few horses at a time. It will take many more hours before we arrive.

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Denethor, the steward of Gondor doesn't know we're coming to help him.

Hirgon, the messenger who looked like Boromir, brought us the red tipped arrow to beg for help, but he never made it home to deliver the news of our departure.

We found his body this morning. Literally, just his body. His head had been roughly hewn off, we couldn't find it. In his hand he was still clutching the arrow, determined not to lose it, even at the last possible moment.

We didn't even have time to bury him properly, we had to move on to battle. I just hope that Denethor doesn't give up, believing that no one is coming to his aid.

We're nearly there…

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We reached the battle fields mid afternoon. At least I think it was - it is quite difficult to tell the time when the sky is always as black as night.

We approached the edge of the hill and halted briefly for a moment. In the grim darkness, I could see the fields stretching out across the plain. Minas Tirith, the great white city stood alone and vulnerable about a mile away. Dark shapes kept crawling up the dim white glow of the walls. They were continuously tossed down by the weary defenders, as the battle continued. There were bodies everywhere in contorted final positions. The stink of blood and sweat drifted around us like an invisible mist.

Suddenly, I noticed one of the men down below stand up tall and stare at Théoden's banner. He was dressed like a chief, his face shifting into a scowl of incredible hatred and anger.

"Southrons" I heard a soldier next to me comment. I had heard of these people; wild, evil minions of Sauron.

Théoden gave a shout of rage and commanded our army to charge forward. I closed my eyes and clung tightly to Andante's mane as he thundered into a gallop with all the other horses. We smashed against their defence, our soldiers slicing them down where they stood, Théoden leading the way. There were more of them than us, but our riders were more skilled with their weapons, and charged with a uncontrollable fierce anger. These people had dared to invade their lands.

The battle had begun.

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It wasn't long before the battle started to turn against us. We were outnumbered by so many, hundreds upon hundreds, all marching towards us, all determined to slay every last one of us. I stayed near Éowyn's side, I knew that Andante would bolt if I moved too far away from her soothing presence.

There is a big difference between practising with a sword in training, and actually killing people. However, most of my moves seemed to be in defence. The Southrons might not be excellent fighters, but they could easily match my every move.

Still they kept coming - as our men kept falling with cries of agony.

Another trumpet sounded across the field. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and looked up. Great ships were sailing up the river, preparing to land. The sails were black as night, and my heart sank even further. More enemy reinforcements. We couldn't hold out much longer, soon there would be no more of us left.

Suddenly, a different horn sounded, this time from the boats that were just pulling up next to the quay. I turned to look and my mouth gaped open in surprise. The sails were changing. They were actually removing the black sails and replacing them with…

With the white tree of Gondor and the seven stars. It was Aragorn with an army.

I've never been so glad to see anyone in my entire life. Aragorn may not be the nicest person when you get to know him closely - but he can certainly use a sword. And that was exactly what we needed right now.

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Suddenly, an ear piercing, bone chilling screech filled the sky, and a black shadow descended right on top of Théoden. Éowyn gave a cry of horror and pulled away from my side, forcing Windfola back towards her king. I sat there in panic, watching her ride towards that black evil shadow which had fallen from the sky. Andante grew tenser under me, I could feel him becoming more and more rigid as Éowyn rode further away. Suddenly she crossed the invisible threshold and my poor horse couldn't stand my presence any longer. He gave a loud whinny of fear and reared up, shaking his mane and hooves wildly, desperate to throw me from his back. Somehow, I managed to loop the reins around my wrist and hang on. I was leaning back almost at a right angle, slipping slowly down, down off the saddle. The horse dropped back onto all four legs and bolted through the lines of people. I clung on tightly, my knuckles almost as white as my face. Andante jerked to and fro, a chestnut blur, avoiding our soldiers as he galloped on in panic.

I managed to turn my head enough to look back. I saw Éowyn stand alone before that great black, dragon like creature. There was a wraith on its back, with a cruel mace in his hand. He brought the mace down towards Éowyn with a crash that must have shattered her arm. She was surrounded only by piles of bodies, so small and vulnerable against that evil monster.

She stood alone with her sword and shield, her blonde hair had worked itself loose and was streaming down her back. I closed my eyes, I couldn't watch her fall.

Suddenly a cry shrieked across the battle field, followed by an icy cold wind that rushed past and made me shudder. I looked back and saw that the wraith had fallen, she'd actually managed to kill it! …but to my horror, Éowyn had fallen as well. I caught a glimpse of her body in a heap on the floor. Tears streamed down my face and I wiped them away fiercely with a hand. Anger and pain flooded through me. I longed to return and revenge her death, but Andante was still charging across the field, occasionally attempting to throw me off.

We ploughed through a group of Southrons, trampling them beneath Andante's feet. I felt a slight twinge of satisfaction, but it didn't last long, as he tried rearing to throw me off again. He was panicking, tearing across the great plain, away from the battle ground, slowly drawing closer to the river where the great boats were unloading. As we thundered past, I caught a brief glimpse of my brothers half way down the gangplank. Andante swerved suddenly, and I tightened my clinging grip even more around that horrible horses neck. I saw all the men glance at me in astonishment. I could see all the questions in their faces. Why was a rider heading away from the battle? A coward? But a member of the Rohirrim who could not control his horse? It was unthinkable.

I just caught a glimpse of Elrohir watching me, recognition dawning on his face, quickly replaced with horror. He grabbed Elladan and whispered something in his ear. Now both my brothers were staring at me in shock, quickly joined by Glorfindel and Niralan.

What did I expect? No one else could ride this badly - of course they would know it was me.

That did it. I lost my temper totally. I hated this stupid animal, it had whisked me away from my friends, put my life in further risk by trying to throw me off, and now it had humiliated me in front of my brothers. This was the last straw.

I cautiously relaxed my magnet-like grip and sat up straight in the saddle, my anger rising stronger than my fear. I wrapped the reigns tighter around my wrists and summoned up the largest force of will and courage I had ever experienced.

"That's enough!" I screamed, jerking back on the horses reigns with all my strength. Andante skidded to a stop and stood there panting, amazed by my sudden outburst. I didn't even think about what I was doing, I just yanked the reins again and twisted him back in the opposite direction. Then I leaned forward and kicked him sharply with my heel. I didn't care if I hurt him. From now on, I was going to give the orders. I was going to be in control.

Andante started to run back into the battle. I leaned forward, no longer afraid, my will power so determined that he didn't dare to defy me. The distance seemed to speed past even quicker than before. I was rocking gently, moving in harmony with the horse. When I pulled his reigns, he changed direction, responding to my touch. I could do it! I could ride! I wasn't afraid any more, and the horse obeyed me!

#####################################################################

The battle seemed to last forever. Hours of bloodcurdling screams, clashes of metal, and snarls of orcs. I can't remember much of it. Just a desperate fight to survive. People were falling all around me.

I watched Éothain die. He threw himself in front of Éomer when a Southron tried to stab him from behind. He tottered for a second, before slumping in a heap. Éomer slew the Southron, then turned to embrace his fallen friend.

"Thank you" he whispered with tears in his eyes, before standing up with a roar of anger, frantically chopping Southrons to pieces all over the place.

I managed to reach Éothain's side and took out a small withered bunch of flowers from my pocket - one of the many he had given me earlier. I tucked it into his hand - tears streaming down my face. My whole body was just screaming the question

"Why?"

At last the number of standing enemy was dwindling. I wandered forlornly amongst the bodies, the first drifts of smoke beginning to swirl around my feet. I was looking for Éowyn. I wanted to carry her body to safety - to sit beside her corpse and cry until my heart broke. I hardly had any energy left, just my stubborn determination carrying me along. I stumbled over various bits of armour and limbs, searching everywhere for a familiar flash of blonde hair.

Suddenly I spotted a different, but familiar face. Too familiar - someone I had known for years. Lying there amongst the corpses. Eyes closed, blood everywhere.

It was Glorfindel.

#####################################################################

I rushed to Glorfindel and knelt by his side, inspecting his wounds. They were deep, but not deadly if he got to a healer quickly. My biggest fear was the poison from the swords which might have entered his body. His eyes flickered open as I waved desperately to an empty stretcher in the distance. He gripped my arm weakly.

"Leave me" he whispered, "Find her" I ignored him, ordering him to lie still. He refused, trying to get to his feet.

"I've got to find Sardwen. I saw her, on the horse." he gazed hopelessly around at the piles of bodies.

"She's safe" I said to calm him down, remembering to lower my voice.

"I don't believe you!" he cried. "She's dead isn't she? What was she doing here anyway? Leave me alone" he insisted, pushing me away. I didn't know what to do. The poison was clearly affecting his thinking, he wouldn't intentionally give my secret away. I just hoped that no one else had heard him asking about a woman. He needed to see a healer soon, or the poison would kill him. I struggled to keep him still until a stretcher arrived. I only had one choice. I knelt up on one knee and carefully removed my helmet.

"Glorfindel" I whispered in my own voice. "I promise you, I'm safe, now let me help you." Glorfindel looked up at me in amazement. He reached one arm up to touch my tightly bound hair.

"It is you!" he cried "We were both so worried" he grimaced as a spasm of pain shot through his body. I heard a gasp from behind me, and turned to see the two stretcher bearers staring at me incredulously, the one in front pointed a quivering finger at me.

"You're a woman!" he called. I crammed the helmet back over my head and scowled at him as they eased Glorfindel onto the stretcher.

"War does strange things" I told him firmly. "Sometimes you think you see things that are not really there. Think logically, why would there be any women here? Now help me get this elf to a healer."

We gently transferred Glorfindel onto the stretcher. The bearers grabbed an end each, and I walked by his side, making sure that he stayed in place. Our progress was slow, picking our way between spread-eagled bodies of men and orcs. It wasn't long before Glorfindel fell into unconsciousness.

We stopped by one man on the floor who was groaning in agony. I noticed that his leg was separate, a few yards away. He was in a mess, blood everywhere. I estimated that he would have a few minutes left. I turned away and closed my eyes. So much slaughter, so much pain.

"Can you take this?" the stretcher bearer in front asked, gesturing towards his end of the stretcher. "I want to wait here with this man." I didn't need to be asked twice. I took the stretcher and we continued on our way, the previous stretcher bearer crouching down next to the man groaning on the floor. I didn't need to ask what he was waiting for, it was obvious. He would sit there and wait for the man to die, holding his hand, talking of his family and bravery, ensuring him that he was not going to die in vain and alone on a battlefield.

I suddenly realised that there are many sorts of courage. There's the bravery to fight, but there is also the bravery to sit amongst the blood and butchered limbs and wait for a man to die. I don't know if I could do that. Does that make me a coward?

We continued walking, the houses of healing still seemed so far away. Glorfindel was unconscious now. The stretcher weighed so much, my aching limbs were about to give up.

Suddenly a half-dead figure rose up in front of me, a huge orc, face contorted in a snarl. Last attempt to kill before it also died from it's wounds. I saw the sword, dripping with blood, flying through the air towards me. There was nothing I could do, I had no energy left, not even enough to move. Time seemed to freeze as the blade came towards me. I took in the hoards of dead and dying, blood everywhere. Éowyn was there somewhere, I saw her fall. Well, now I was going to join her. I closed my eyes in defeat and waited for the end.

#####################################################################

The blow never came. I heard a battle cry instead and heard the thickening crunch of a sword clashing against bone. I opened my eyes to see Niralan leaning on his sword, standing over the body of the dead orc, panting heavily.

My arms gave way and I quickly put the stretcher down. Glorfindel remained in place, his wounds still bleeding. I rubbed my arms to try and relieve the ache.

"Thank you" I smiled up at Niralan. It was a terrible understatement, but I didn't know what else to say.

"I thought we'd lost you" Niralan admitted "When we saw Éowyn fall, I thought you would be next to her." He walked over and threw his arms around me in a hug. I stood rigid as a stick for a moment in surprise, then I hugged him back. My eyes were filling again as we stood in the middle of the battlefield. The cries of the wounded coming from piles of broken bodies. Acrid smoke swirled around us, fingering the corpses, and working its way to touch the living. The stench was unbearable, mud and blood covered my hands and streaked down my face.

"It's all right" he whispered in my ear, "It's all over now."

"But so many dead" I sobbed with great jerking hiccups. He didn't answer for a while, just held me tight in comfort.

"It was a hard price to pay" he admitted, looking over my shoulder at the piles of corpses. "But just think how many more would have died if the Dark Lord managed to gain control of these lands. Just think of all the suffering that would have been. Our people are still free, and that is a cause worth risking your life for." I sniffed and nodded, pulling away from his embrace. I wiped my tears away and smeared more blood across my face.

"Just be thankful that you're still alive" he finished. Then unexpectedly, he kissed me on the cheek before kneeling down next to Glorfindel. I stood there in shock for a moment, one hand gently fingering my cheek. Then I pulled myself together and helped him lift Glorfindel up again and head for the Houses of Healing.

#####################################################################

Entering Minas Tirith was nowhere near as painful as I had thought it would be. I was expecting to see reminders of Boromir everywhere I looked in his home city - but it wasn't too bad, and it certainly didn't upset me in the slightest.

We found Glorfindel a bed, and laid him gently on his back. I stayed with him, holding his hand - whilst Niralan persuaded a healer to look at him immediately.

There were many people lying in the Houses of Healing, the stench of blood hung heavily in the corridors. I wished Daddy was here, he could heal almost anything. I didn't have as much faith in human healers.

I left Glorfindel in the healers' hands and slowly made my way through the corridors. Suddenly I noticed a familiar figure lying on a curtained off bed.

Éowyn? She was alive?

I wrapped myself in the curtains, peering through to see what was going on. She lay there, so still… so pale. A couple of healers was standing over her looking grave.

"A broken arm - that will heal" I heard one of them say.

"But she is near to death" the other replied. "Few could slay a ringwraith with no side effects. It would be a miracle if she awoke now."

The words hit me like Gimli's axe. She had managed to survive the battle - and I was going to lose her now? I couldn't stand looking at her pale face any longer. I backed into a corner and sat on the floor, my face buried against my knees. Everything was just too much… I let the tears come.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Exhaustion overwhelmed me, and I cried myself to sleep. I dreamt of the battle, The orcs and Southrons were multiplying as I watched, more and more evil snarls coming closer and closer. I tried to back away, but I kept tripping over the bodies of my friends and comrades. I saw Aragorn lying there, blood congealing on his face. Then Arwen's angry face filled my vision, she was shouting at me, over and over...

"If you let Aragorn die, I'll kill you...If you let Aragorn die, I'll kill you..." Then her face twisted until it became Daddy's reminding me

"I told you not to follow the fellowship, I told you that you muck up everything you touch... this is all your fault....This is all your fault!!"

I woke up with a jerk and gazed blearily through my red rimmed eyes down the corridor.

Something had changed.

It was the smell, I realised at last. The stench of blood and sweat had been replaced by a fresh, clean aroma. Almost as if a keen wind was blowing strongly though the houses of healing and washing the dirt away. I knew that smell, it reminded me of the medical wing at home.

Athelas. The herb of healing.

Suddenly I heard Aragorn's voice in the curtained room off to my right.

"Awake, Éowyn, Lady of Rohan!"

Éowyn? But she was almost dead. I jumped to my feet and peered through a crack in the curtains. Everyone was crowding around her, desperate to see if Aragorn had been able to heal her. She didn't immediately stir, but began to breathe the clean, fresh air deeply.

"Call her" Aragorn ordered as he left the room.

Éomer bent over his sister, calling her name, tears rolling down his face. Suddenly her huge blue eyes slowly blinked open and she was talking quietly to her brother.

She was alive!

I turned and ran down the corridor to where Aragorn was joining Elladan at another man's bedside.

"Thank you!" I cried, grasping his arm and squeezing it in gratitude. "You don't know how much this means to me, to everyone." It took a couple of seconds for him to realise I was talking about Éowyn's miraculous healing. He smiled, nodded and shook his arm free.

I walked slowly back to Éowyn's bed and sat by her side, I glanced sharply at Éomer, daring him to order me to leave, before taking my friend's hand and squeezing it gently.

"Awake at last" I commented dryly, trying to keep the smile from my face. "Honestly Éowyn, you're almost as lazy as the hobbits."

########################################################################

The next few days passed in a blur. It was a long time before I could actually sit quietly by Éowyn's bedside and relax.

She stirred slightly in her sleep, bringing her hand up to tangle amongst the golden curtain of hair that spread across her pillow. I tucked her covers gently around her and sat back in the chair. I was so relieved that she was safe, I was content to sit and watch over her for hours.

Many hours had passed since her healing, so much had happened. Glorfindel was soon up and walking around, his ribs swathed in bandages. He absolutely refused to stay in bed, and was determined not to be left behind when they all left for Mordor.

I spoke quietly to Mithrandir at one point, when we were both getting some fresh air on the battlements.

"Who would believe all this was caused by one ring" I commented, resting my arms on the parapet and looking out across the dark plain. "Will it ever end?"

"Only if Frodo manages to destroy it" he replied quietly after a short pause. I glanced at him, puzzled.

"Destroy it? is that really necessary? ...As long as I don't have to be the one who breaks the news to Arwen."

"Arwen?" he questioned, looking even more confused than me.

"Arwen's engagement ring" I explained slowly. "I expect it was hard enough to part her from it in the first place, when all you wanted to do was hide it. I don't want to have to tell her that you've destroyed it."

Mithrandir stared at me for a long time, his long white hair stirring gently in the breeze. Suddenly, a light appeared in his eyes and he started to laugh.

"I think it's about time I explained something..." he said.

Honestly, I've never been so embarrassed in my life. All that time I thought Frodo was carrying a simple engagement ring, he was actually protecting the ring of power itself. I feel such a fool. At least there was no one else around to laugh at my mistake.

Éomer finally relented to leave his sister's side and travel with Aragorn towards the Black Gate. His last words to me were dire threats of what he would do if anything else happened to Éowyn. However, I think he was quite pleased that I was staying with her.

Niralan wasn't so happy. He wanted me to go with them. I wanted to, but I couldn't leave Éowyn alone. He seemed to understand, both he and Glorfindel looked back several times as they rode on towards the black gate. I stood on the tower battlement of the White City to watch them go. The strong wind tossed my tresses of dark hair playfully, my dress flying out behind me.

Suddenly Éowyn stirred again, and opened her eyes, bringing me back to the present. I leaned forward in the chair and took her hand. She saw me and smiled,

"I'm glad you escaped unharmed" she whispered, snuggling back into the pillows.

"Unlike you" I replied, "What were you thinking of? Still, you slew the Witch-king, a Ringwaith! Now are you satisfied? You don't wish to take on another army by yourself?" She smiled again

"No" she whispered and closed her eyes. I sat back again, glad that she was resting properly. I had visions of literally holding her down in bed whilst her body mended.

Suddenly, the blue eyes flew open again.

"It's too quiet" she commented. "Where is everyone?" I told her that they had set out for the Black Gate.

"Everyone?" she asked incredulously, I nodded.

"Including Aragorn?" I nodded again

"Even Niralan?" she asked one last time.

"Yes" I said, one eyebrow rising slightly in puzzlement. What was she getting at? I knew why she was asking about Aragorn, but why did she want to know if Niralan had left?

"Then why are you still here, you idiot!" she cried, trying to sit up. I pushed her back down into the bed and tucked the covers tightly over her struggling body.

"To look after you, you're the idiot. Someone has to make sure you stay in bed."

She flopped back against the pillows in resignation.

"Go!" she said firmly. "I don't need you here, there are plenty of nurses and healers around. There's nothing you can do, If you hurry, you can still catch them up."

"But why?" I insisted. "I want to stay here, I'm going to make sure you get better, why do you want to get rid of me? Besides your brother would never forgive me if I abandoned you."

She lay there staring at the ceiling for a moment, obviously deep in thought.

"You've done so much for me" she said slowly "You put up with my moaning, you helped me with the women and children, you saved us all at Helms Deep…" I opened my mouth to protest, but she carried on "…You helped me set up the camp, put up with yet more of my sulking, told me your idea about dressing as men because you know I wanted to fight, went into battle even when you never wanted to…I could go on forever…"

I was staring at the floor, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"…Remember I told you I owed you a favour, back in the tent when I was fixing your hair…" I nodded dumbly. "…Well, I'm repaying it now. I demand you to leave this place, find a horse and catch up with the others…" She closed her eyes and a smile fluttered across her cheeks. "At least catch up with Niralan" she finished.

"But why?" I insisted again.

"If you can't see that, maybe you're too stupid to go" she snapped irritably. "Now go, I want to sleep… You'll thank me one day." She closed her eyes and I remained uneasily in the chair. I couldn't really leave her, I had to stay. Suddenly the ice blue eyes flashed open at me once more.

"Go!" she bellowed. I jumped back in fright and edged towards the door, her eyes glaring at me as I went. I escaped out the door and started down the corridor. Behind me, I could hear her peels of amused laughter.

########################################################################

The ground thudded in a blur beneath Andante's hooves. I leant forward, and whispered in his ear, my hair streaming out behind me. Andante put on an extra burst of speed as we splashed across a little stream. I laughed, my previous fear of horses forgotten. Some good things had come from the battle, perhaps I wouldn't be such a disgrace to the elvish race now I could ride. As long as I keep my mouth shut when people start singing!

#####################################################################

I finally caught up with them this afternoon. Andante was exhausted as I reached the top of the rise. I looked down into the valley, and saw all 7,000 of them streaming out with one last purpose. I coaxed my horse to travel just a little further, and eventually joined the back of the 500 riders led by my brothers. The miles passed quickly, we followed the trail of destruction caused by the orcs in their retreat back to Mordor. We were moving too quickly to repair too much damage, but we could see that the lands would eventually recover. Time would lend a healing hand, and maybe one day people would be able to live here and forget the evil that had dwelt and destroyed these territories. At least they would if we successfully defeated Sauron.

It was only when we stopped for the night, that I managed to reach Niralan. He looked delighted to see me, hardly giving me a chance to speak to my brothers before finding us a place to camp for the night. All the men gathered in small groups around separate campfires. The tension is still palpable, we all know that we will arrive at the Black Gate tomorrow, We are either going to make history with the downfall of Sauron, or witness the slaughter of our armies and the loss of Middle Earth. I don't think anyone is going to be able to sleep tonight.

########################################################################

A wolf howl cut suddenly though the air and echoed around the surrounding hills. All conversation halted for a moment, as people listened nervously. The howls continued, and eventually the gentle sound of many different voices started up again.

"I'm so glad you decided to join us" Niralan smiled, taking up a stick and etching deep scratches in the hard earth. I smiled and pulled my blanket tighter around my shoulders.

"Éowyn would probably have made my life a misery if I hadn't obeyed her orders" I replied with a grin. I watched the flames flickering from the campfire, sending shooting orange sparks spitting into the darkness.

"Is that the only reason you came?" Niralan asked, his eyes scrutinising my face.

"No" I replied, "I wanted to be here at the end, to stand with my brothers and friends. Either we win the freedom of Middle Earth together - or we die together."

"What about me?"

I stared at him in surprise.

"Of course I wanted to be with you. I wanted to be with all my friends."

"Oh... friends" he murmured, looking out into the darkness and snapping the stick suddenly between his fingers.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked, as the silence lengthened. He looked at me and smiled.

"No, of course not...I just wondered... maybe I'm fooling myself."

"What??!!"

He smiled once again and reached out to tuck a stray strand of my hair away from my face.

"I've often wondered what would have happened if I'd never left Rivendell" he replied slowly, gently stroking back my hair. "I decided that either Arwen would have driven me to suicide...or..."

"Or what?" I asked again, a strange feeling in my stomach. He cupped my chin in his hand and tilted my face until I was looking right into his piercing blue eyes.

"...or I might have become happier than you could ever imagine. I'll stop beating about the bush… Sardwen, I love you. I think I always have."

I stared at him, my mouth was probably hanging open, I couldn't control myself.

"I thought… I had hoped that you perhaps returned these feelings…" he continued

I was still frozen, I couldn't think of anything to say. He looked at my expression sadly.

"Obviously I was mistaken. Please forgive me; I was a fool to express myself so openly."

He rose to his feet, gave a brief nod and walked off into the gloom. I wanted to call him back, tell him to stay, but I couldn't get any words out.

He loved me? Why was this such a surprise? I couldn't gather my feelings together, I didn't know what I felt. Niralan had always been my best friend when I was younger. But when he left Imladris, I hardly thought about him. Was he right? Would things have been different if he had stayed? How did I feel about him? – there was no way I could express it in words. I watched the flames flicker, and savagely bit my thumbnail. What should I do?

########################################################################

I saw a shadowy figure hover behind me for a second, then awkwardly sit at my side.

"Niralan…" I started to say, as I looked up. But it was Glorfindel, I tried to hide my slight disappointment. There were a couple of minutes of silence as we both looked out into the cloaking darkness. There were no ordinary clouds in the sky, but the stars were hidden by the foul smoke pouring out of Mordor.

"You're cold" he said at last. I looked at him, and nodded dumbly. I was shivering, externally, and inside I was still frozen.

He took a blanket from his shoulders and ignoring my protests, placed it around mine. He kept his arm resting there and pulled me closer to him for warmth.

"Are you scared about tomorrow?" he asked softly. I tried to pull myself out of my confusion. I hadn't even thought about it, I had been preoccupied by other things.

"A bit…" I replied lamely, for want of something to say.

"Don't be ashamed" he replied. "Almost everyone here is uneasy about arriving at the Black Gate." I looked out into the dim blackness, the hundreds of dark figures huddling around little campfires. I doubted many of them were experiencing the same turmoil of feelings that I was.

"I won't let anything happen to you." Glorfindel continued, making me smile slightly behind the shadow of my hair. I turned to say something to him, but before I could open my mouth, he kissed me. For the second time this evening, I was frozen in shock. I couldn't move for a few seconds, and then as he tried to deepen the kiss, I pulled away.

"No… I'm sorry" I whispered, looking down at the floor. He sighed, gave me one last squeeze and removed his arm from my shoulders.

"It's alright, I half expected it anyway." I looked up in confusion and he smiled weakly.

"How can you kiss one elf… when you're in love with someone else?"

My eyes widened as what he said began to sink in.

"It's supposed to be hardest when you lose to a close friend…" he continued. "But I'm glad you chose Niralan over anyone else. At least I know that he's worthy of you." He rose to his feet, clutching his bandaged ribcage with a slight wince. He looked down at me once more and attempted to smile once more.

"I hope you'll be very happy together" he concluded, with a slight catch in his voice before he also disappeared into the darkness.

Once again, I was left alone to think. It was like piecing together a puzzle, with little snippets of clues and information. I pictured Niralan's face, it was so familiar that I could trace every angle. Glorfindel thought that I loved him, Éowyn had shown particular interest in our relationship, hadn't she even ordered me to catch up with him, claiming she was doing me a favour. Could she pick up something that I was too blind to see?

I love being with Niralan. I love the sound of his voice, and seeing him smile. But did I really love him?

I pictured him being killed by orcs, perhaps in tomorrow's battle. I saw his battered body abandoned on the battlefield. The tears were flowing down my cheeks before I could stop myself. I hastily thought of something more cheerful, and wiped my eyes vigorously.

Suddenly I realised, I didn't just care for him, I actually wanted to be with him always. The idea of losing him was so painful that it made my throat tighten. The idea of him marrying, kissing, loving another woman was so horrible it didn't bear thinking about.

I did love him!

I'd finally made up my mind.

########################################################################

As soon as the dim blackness grew light enough to see by, we packed up camp and started the final trek up to the actual gates of Mordor.

I couldn't find Niralan anywhere, I began to think that he could be purposely avoiding me. I rode by my brothers side as the valley swept down to the vast iron doors of the Black Gate blocking the way.

I'd never seen a more threatening piece of architecture. The jagged spikes looked like spears, and the colour seemed to absorb all cheer from the poison bleached rocks near the entrance to Sauron's realm. I looked up and quailed slightly as I spotted the Nazgul hovering overhead, the beating of their mounts' wings throbbing through the valley, almost making breathing difficult.

I watched Mithrandir far away in the distance talking to the embassy from the dark tower.

The embassy made me shiver involuntarily. He was tall and evil looking on a snorting black horse. His face was hidden by a frightful mask which looked more like a rotting skull than a living head. His eye sockets were filled with a burning flame.

He was the mouth of Sauron.

He was holding up some objects, I squinted to see them better, even with my eyesight. I eventually recognised the sword that Sam had been carrying and a grey cloak fastened with an elven brooch. Finally he held up a shining mail coat, that looked so light it could only have been made from mithril.

Frodo and Sam's belongings. They must have been captured. The mission had failed. Sauron had won.

My last remaining dribble of hope drained away, and I sat frozen on Andante as Mithrandir took the objects and the mouth of Sauron retreated back to the black gate. As he reached it, a horn blew out across the valley, quickly joined by many more. As I watched, the great gates of Mordor slowly opened accompanied by the threatening beating of hundreds of drums. They opened to reveal a huge snarling army, ready to massacre us all.

I glanced quickly from side to side as the hosts of Mordor poured out of the gates in a continuous stream, dust rising up in swirling clouds from beneath their feet. A dark army of Easterlings appeared from the sides of the valley, where they had been lying in wait. They were enclosing us, ready for the slaughter.

We were surrounded. There was no way out. We were hopelessly outnumbered.

We were going to die.

From the corner of my eye, I finally caught a glimpse of Niralan. He was watching the approaching armies, his face frozen with no emotion. I pulled myself together and forced Andante through the throng of riders, attempting to reach his side. There was one last thing I wanted to do, before I breathed my last breath.

He ignored me until I managed to fight my way right up to his side.

"You should have stayed at Minas Tirith" he said coldly, his eyes still watching the hosts of Mordor come closer and closer.

"Niralan..." I tried to say.

"I'm such a fool." he continued, not listening to a word I was saying. "I pleaded with you to leave safety, I spent miles wishing you would catch us up. And now look where I've led you. It's all my fault."

"Niralan!" I called sharply, cutting into his rambling thoughts. "Listen to me."

He turned his head slowly, and eventually ventured to look me in the eye.

"If we're all going to die now, then so be it." I said slowly and calmly. "But I swear with all my heart, there is no other place I'd rather be at this moment."

"Don't be stupid" he said scornfully, turning away to look at the orcs, just a few yards away now. I reached out and turned his face back towards me.

"How much more obvious do I need to be?" I smiled. "I want to be with you Niralan. I want to fight beside you, and if necessary die beside you.

I love you."

He stared at me in silence, a light finally appearing in his cold, hopeless eyes.

"Really?" he breathed, as if he didn't want to trust what he thought he had heard. I nodded, laughing silently, my smile nearly splitting my face in two.

"Really" I replied, pulling his head towards me until our foreheads were touching.

"I love you too" he whispered, looping his arm around my neck and drawing me into a kiss. I closed my eyes and the battleground, the orcs, my approaching death all ceased to exist. I deepened the kiss, conscious that our last few seconds together were ticking away.

A tremendous battle cry rose up through the air, and the ground beneath our feet started to tremble as the orcs reached our first lines of defence. We broke apart and watched as our first few men fell under the iron fist of the orcs.

This was it.

The End.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Survival.

When your life is threatened, you don't even think.

Memory becomes a dark blur of snarling faces, clashing of swords, falling of comrades, the stench of blood and sweat... all swept along on a tide of adrenaline.

The shrieks of battle dim in your ears, until it's just a monotonous hum, punctuated by the thumping of your pulse.

Your moves are restricted to a repeated pattern of defensive strikes, desperately trying to keep enemy blades from striking you or your friends. You don't think about your chances of making it through. You don't think about the fact that there have over 100 times your number fighting on their side.

Must give Frodo a chance... just keep fighting, draw out all those orcs from Mordor.

Give him a chance... just a chance...

You become a killing machine, in an attempt not to be killed.

...And when you are set in that almost unconscious frame of mind, it is very hard to get out again...

"The Eagles are coming!"

Parry, parry, riposte, slash...another one down. Several hundred to go, starting with the one aiming straight at my neck.

"The Eagles are coming!"

I wasn't imagining it? Someone just yelled out something about eagles? At a time like this? ...parry, parry...Owww. Lucky that was a rebound or it would have taken my entire arm off.... The pain's incredible, I can hardly move it... Just got to ignore it and keep fighting.

"The Eagles are coming!"

What are they on about? I looked up to see a strip of pale, clear sky in the north, fighting back against the permanent darkness we had lived under for the last two weeks. I could see huge dark shapes flying swiftly towards us.

Eagles.

Suddenly a terrible call came from the inner depths of Mordor. The Nazgûl turned as one and instantly fled back towards the great tower, racing each other in their haste to aid their master in his moment of fear.

The battlefield went quiet, an unnatural hush descended as all the hosts of Mordor stopped fighting and stared up at the retreating Nazgûl, a fear gripping their hearts. Their evil laughter had stopped and their hands were trembling slightly in their unease.

Then Mithrandir stood, his arms raised to the sky, the first shafts of light bursting through the oppressing darkness and illuminating his white robes, a dazzling spectacle of his power, causing the orcs to cover their eyes from his blinding light.

"Stand, Men of the West! Stand and wait! This is the hour of doom"

As these words left his mouth, a great earthquake shook the ground violently beneath our feet, causing us all to lose our balance. I stumbled against Niralan and we held each other up as we watched an enormous burst of fire belch from the dark mountains of Mordor. Lightening struck the poison bleached slopes mercilessly.

The earthquake tore at the foundations of the jagged spears of the black gate, which swayed, tottered and finally tumbled to the ground with a crash that resounded around the valley. The entire imposing structure of the gate, which had seemed so powerful and impossible to conquer, was hurled into ruin, dust soaring into the air. A low drumming rumble came from far away, growing louder into a roar, and finally a scream of ruinous noise mounting to the clouds and pounding over the valley.

"The realm of Sauron is ended!" I heard Mithrandir cry, "The ring-bearer has fulfilled his Quest."

Suddenly a great dark shadow loomed up out of Mordor, obvious even against the low clouds. As we watched, it formed itself into the shape of a huge threatening hand, with long evil looking fingernails. It slowly reached out towards us, lightning sparking from its side, filling up the entire sky.

I tried not to quail as it reached down over us, fingers scrabbling to squeeze all life from our bodies. Yet seconds before it reached us, a powerful wind took it and blew it away, scattering the darkness into tiny flakes of ash, all power gone.

Sauron was no more.

The darkness that had conquered over us for the last fortnight had completely dissolved, allowing the sun to break through, and shine down upon the hosts of Mordor. We stood calmly and watched as the orcs, trolls and other foul beasts ran mindlessly across the battlefield in panic. Some slew themselves, or each other. Others tumbled into deep pits split open by the earthquake. Hundreds fled out of sight, back to whatever dark hole or hopeless crack they had emerged from. Some even threw down their weapons and begged for mercy. Very few, only the leaders of the Southrons and Easterlings remained, determined to fight to the bitter end.

We had won.

#####################################################################

Éowyn has got some serious explaining to do.

As we approached Minas Tirith on our return, I could just about make her out, standing on the battlements.

At least - I'm pretty certain it was her. We were a very long way away - but I recognised her profile and the way she was standing. She was even holding her arm in a strange position - the one that was broken by the witch king.

But as I watched, a man came out onto the battlements and joined her. I could see them talking for a long time and he wrapped a cloak around her shoulders.

I turned to talk to Niralan - and when I glanced back in her direction - they were kissing.

My mouth nearly dropped open in surprise. Who was that man who had managed to break through all her surly defences and win her admiration in just under a month?

Didn't she care that they were standing up high on the battlements - where the whole city could see them? Obviously not.

I can't wait until we arrive back at the city and I can ask her about it.

#####################################################################

We entered the city today. Trumpets sounded, banners unfurled, and people were lining the streets shouting and cheering.

We rode slowly up towards the citadel, passing though each of the great gates - still being repaired after the battle. The noise was incredible, people threw flowers from above to make a carpet beneath our horses feet.

The sensation of gratitude was amazing. The people were thanking us with all their hearts for saving their lives.

"It wasn't me" I protested to Niralan. "I didn't do anything - why aren't they silent when I pass through - ready to cheer the real army.

Niralan just laughed.

"Believe that if you want" he replied, squeezing my hand.

We finally reached the palace, and Éowyn came tearing out, searching the faces of each horse backed rider. At last she caught my eye and gave a cry, running towards me.

I dismounted quickly and embraced her warmly.

"We made it" she shrieked in my ear, hugging me tightly and jigging from one foot to the other.

Before I could get a word in edgeways, she held me at arms length, looked deeply into my face, then at Niralan, then back to me.

"I knew it!" she squealed, dancing me round in a circle. "I knew you were made for each other. Aren't you glad I made you leave me?" I laughed and staggered, trying to keep my balance.

"Calm down!" I cried "Alright, thank you for making me follow him. Now explain yourself... who was that man I saw you with on top of the battlements yesterday evening?"

She clapped a hand over her mouth,

"You saw that?" she laughed "Let me introduce you to Faramir" she searched the throng of people, trying to see where he had disappeared to.

Faramir. The name sounded vaguely familiar. I was sure I'd heard it somewhere before. Then I remembered. Boromir had spoken of his brother to me, his name was Faramir. When I saw him, I knew there was no mistaking his identity.

It seemed really weird for a moment. The brother of my ex fiancée with my best friend. But as soon as I saw them together - I knew that it would work.

I didn't tell either of them about me and Boromir. There was no point - it was in the past and I was over it now. Niralan knew of course, but there was no point in confusing anyone else.

But it was so good to see all my friends again. To celebrate our victory over Sauron. Middle Earth was free. The Lord of the Rings was no more.

#####################################################################

We celebrated the Hobbits today.

Aragorn led them up on the stage and presented them to the people. Then he turned to Frodo, and knelt before him, his head bowed.

For a moment there was a shocked silence. The king was bowing to a hobbit.

But a hobbit who had suffered things beyond imagination and in destroying the ring had saved Middle Earth.

Immediately, everyone fell to their knees to honour the hobbits who had saved our lives. It was an amazing sight, thousands of heads bowing before them, and the poor hobbits looking a bit bewildered as if they couldn't work out why an entire city of people were honouring them.

It was something I'll never forget.

#####################################################################

Daddy arrived today.

It was so good to see him, riding up to the great gates of the White City. It wasn't quite so good to see Arwen riding at his side.

I left the battlements and pushed my way through the crammed corridors, almost tumbling down the narrow staircases in my haste to reach him. He looked up and saw me trip over the last couple of steps, sending myself and the people directly in front of me flying. I saw him sigh, shaking his head slowly, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline. I could hear Arwen's laughter, and sighed inwardly. There was no way she'd ever let herself be caught so undignified.

I picked myself up, my face burning with embarrassment and hauled those I'd knocked over to their feet, apologising profusely. Finally I turned slowly towards Daddy, waiting for his reaction.

"So you haven't lost your clumsiness then?" he said, his face serious. "I honestly don't know how you managed to survive this war."

My instinctive reaction was to answer back rudely, but something stopped me. A small smile appeared on my face, and widened into a grin. Daddy blinked a couple of times, obviously waiting for the outburst that never came. He smiled and dismounted, holding his arms out to me.

"Mithrandir spoke the truth - you have changed" he murmured as he embraced me. "I'm so glad that you're safe."

I hugged him back warmly, my eyes were misty. It was as if I'd finally gained the father I'd always longed for. A father who truly cared about me, not just a second best, carbon copy of my sister.

"Daddy... come on, we're going to be late" Arwen whined after a few seconds. Daddy broke away instantly and turned back to her.

I knew it wouldn't last!

#####################################################################

Granny is actively looking for me. I am doing everything in my ability to avoid her, but she is incredibly determined.

I was just coming out of my room when I first heard her voice, she was just out of sight, around the corner, telling someone that she planned to spend the next few hours preparing me for my sisters wedding.

The next few hours??

I paled and darted back into my room. I had to escape, but if I rushed along the corridor, she'd be bound to see me. I fumbled to lock the door, only to find that the catch was broken. I spun desperately, looking for another way out. The huge gossamer curtains billowed gently from the breeze blowing through the huge open doors onto the balcony. I rushed over, and looked out. I was several stories up, but directly below me was the balcony belonging to the room below.

There was a knock on the door and I heard Granny announcing herself. I literally had seconds to make up my mind. Several hours alone with Granny discussing Arwen's wedding, or jump out of the window.

Granny... window....Granny....window...

Window.

I hooked one leg over the balcony, shifted my weight, and started to lower myself down slowly. My dress got itself caught around a carved spike, and suspended me in mid air. I tugged it desperately, aware that the door handle in my room was turning slowly. She was coming.

As the door opened, I panicked. I tugged the dress violently and heard the ominous tearing sound of ripped fabric. I pulled a face and let myself drop to the balcony below, absorbing the impact in a crouch.

"Sardwen?" I could hear her coming into my room and looking around.

"Sardwen, I know you're in here."

I kept silent, listening. If she couldn't find me, perhaps she would leave. There was no way she'd think about looking down here, the idea of her granddaughter climbing off a balcony wouldn't even enter her head. All I had to do was wait...

"Hey, Sardwen!"

I turned quickly to look over the courtyard. Glorfindel was standing there waving up at me. "Your Grandmother was looking for you" he informed me helpfully.

I could have murdered him. Honestly, I could. Talk about lack of tact.

"Sardwen?" I could hear her coming over to the window now. Her voice sounded puzzled. Any second now... I had to make a break for it.

I shoved my shoulder against the closed windows leading into the bedroom connected to the balcony. The flimsy latch gave way, and they opened. I stumbled inside, just slow enough for Granny to catch a glimpse of my dress as I ran inside.

"Sardwen!" I heard her cry as she leaned over my balcony. "How dare you run off. You can't escape from me that easily!!"

I dashed through the bedroom, twisting in and out of the furniture, heading for the door. Luckily the room was deserted and I easily let myself out onto the new corridor.

"Sardwen!!" her muffled voice sounded really angry now, I could hear her descending the staircase.

I turned and fled in the opposite direction, my hair and dress streaming out behind me. I wrenched open the door to another staircase, and almost collided with Niralan who was coming the other way.

"There you are," he said, "I was just coming to look for you."

"Sardwen!!" I turned to see her striding purposely along the corridor, almost breathing flames.

"Save me!!" I begged attempting to descend the stairs. Niralan took in the situation quickly and grinned,

"Still refusing to eat your vegetables are we? ...this way, quick!"

He grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me up the stairs instead.

I bunched up my skirts so that they didn't trip me and scurried up the stairs, stifling a nervous giggle. The stairs twisted round and round in a tight spiral, our hurried footsteps echoed in the small enclosed space, the wooden steps creaking under our feet. It wasn't long before we were both laughing at the absurdity of the situation - that didn't slow us down though. To tell the truth, I feared Granny's wrath when she found us, almost as much as I had feared facing the battle grounds.

We reached the top of the stairs, and thundered along the top corridor, Granny's determined footsteps still following us.

Suddenly, Niralan skidded to a halt and back-tracked a few steps.

"Got it" he said softly, looking out of a high loft window. I joined him quickly.

"On the roof? Are you mad?" I cried, looking out onto the steep tiles.

"Perhaps... but not as dangerous as she is" he commented, opening the window.

I glanced along the deserted corridor. I couldn't see her yet, but she was on her way. People would talk of course. Everyone we had pushed past would remember two adults dashing along the corridor like children. It was only a matter of time until she arrived.

"Quick then" I decided, nervously watching the end of the corridor whilst he opened the window and hauled himself out. He crouched on the tiles outside, reaching in to help me clamber out. My dress caught on the catch and there was another ominous ripping sound.

By now I was laughing so much, I could hardly control myself. I closed the window quietly, and we clambered over the edge of the roof, finding a hollow, hidden from peering eyes. There was a breathtaking view, we could see right over the white city, and the huge plains beyond.

Safety...

At least for the time being...!

#####################################################################

I am in so much trouble.

I couldn't stay hidden for ever, and I've never seen Granny this angry before

Haven't got time to write now.

Pity me!

#####################################################################

I've just seen the dress Granny wants me to wear at Arwen's wedding. I nearly threw up all over it - talk about Arwen's cruel idea of a joke.

Pink and frilly, covered with frothy lace like some sort of meringue.

No way am I wearing that!

I've just got to find some sort of valid excuse... Pink clashes with my skin tone? Lace brings me out in a rash? I'm allergic to frills?

I've got to come up with something.

#####################################################################

I went to see Daddy today, to plead his support against having to wear the dress. He did cringe slightly when he saw it, but when he realised how much Granny wanted me to wear it, he refused to take my side against her.

Instead we had a long chat about "the future." To tell the truth, I hadn't given it an awful lot of thought. He told me that now the war was over and his ring had lost its power, he planned to finish off any loose ends and leave for the Grey Havens and sail to the West within the next couple of years. He told me he felt that he'd been fighting for long enough, and now he wanted a rest and to see mother again.

He asked me if I would be going with him. I asked for some time to make up my mind. There are a few people I need to discuss this with.

#####################################################################

I tried to "lose" the dress today.

After Niralan and I had finished discussing going to the Grey Havens and the West, I actually plucked up the courage to show him the "thing." Once he'd recovered from rolling about on the floor laughing, I managed to persuade him to take it off my hands.

It didn't work. Granny noticed that it was missing from its hangar and turned to face me slowly, eyes narrowed.

"Where. is. it?" she asked slowly and menacingly.

"Where's what?" I stammered nervously.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" she replied, "What have you done with it?"

At that moment there was a soft knock on the door and a maid appeared holding the horrible frilly pink bundle.

"Is this yours?" she asked nervously, holding it out. "I've just found it stuffed behind the linen basket."

Granny turned sharply, her piercing eyes almost wreathed in flames. By that time I'd already fled.

I've got to come up with a better idea. That's after I've reminded Niralan how to find a good hiding place. Honestly - you'd think he could come up with something better than that!

#####################################################################

Granny has confiscated the dress. She has hung it up near the fireplace in her room so there is no conceivable way that I could "lose" it again.

I had a long conversation with Éowyn today. We went up onto the highest tower to talk. I love it up there. The view is spectacular, the snowy mountains behind, the great rolling plains in front. You can see for miles.

I told her that Niralan and I were planning to sail to the West in a couple of years time. I didn't want to keep any secrets from her.

"But why?" she asked me, her head bent down towards her lap, the wind tugging frantically at her long blonde hair. "I'd hoped you'd stay near me. I thought we'd always see each other."

It was hard to reply. I tried to explain why the homeland of the Valinor is so special to the elves. What it would be like to go to a place where there was no more suffering, sadness, pain or even death.

Éowyn didn't say anything for a long, long time. At last she lifted her head slowly, and fixed her brimming blue eyes on me.

"I'll miss you" she said simply, and embraced me tightly.

"I'll miss you too" I replied as I hugged her back. "But I'm not going anywhere yet. You've still got at least another couple of years to put up with me annoying you!"

#####################################################################

It was the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen today. I woke up... then remembered and clamped the pillow over my head with a groan as I remembered that I would have to stand before all those people wearing that meringue!

I dithered until the last possible moment. But eventually I couldn't wait any longer, and dejectedly slumped towards Granny's room to get dressed.

I could hear her voice, full of cold, slow menace as I rounded the corner. As I entered the room, a maid pushed past me, tears streaming down her face. Granny was pacing slowly up and down the room, her entire frame stiff with anger

"You won't believe the incompetence of these staff!" were the words she greeted me with. "The maid left the window open when the wind picked up." She paused for a breath. "I'm sorry Sardwen, the wind blew straight through and your dress ended up in the fire."

"The fire?" I repeated, hardly daring to believe my ears.

"Yes. It's ruined - you can't possibly wear it now" she continued to rant, shaking out the charred remains of what had been pink lace and frills.

I had to work hard not to let my grin spread all over my face.

"Oh" I said, trying to find something tactful to say. "I suppose I'd better try and find something else then. Such a shame."

I dashed out of the room and waited until I'd got out of earshot before I gave a cheer of delight. Then I sought out the maid, managed to persuade her that Granny was not worth committing suicide over, and gave her all the money I had on me to say thank you.

I can't remember much about the wedding itself. Everyone said that Arwen looked beautiful, I agree, she did. For once the smile on her face looked completely genuine. She was truly happy. I'm not sure how long it will last.

It would make a great happy ending to say that the only reason Arwen was horrible to me was because she so desperately wanted to be with Aragorn... and now she had that she'd be nice for ever more. But that does sound a tad simplistic... and this is Arwen we are talking about! I doubt there'll be a complete change overnight. But I'm glad they are both happy.

#####################################################################

I was sitting talking with Niralan, Éowyn and Faramir, when a messenger arrived to say Arwen wanted to see me.

I glanced at my friends uncertainly, but decided Arwen shouldn't be kept waiting - especially now she was Queen of Gondor. It sounds so strange to give her the title. To me she'll always be Arwen - my twin sister.

I entered her room cautiously, not sure exactly what I'd done wrong in order to cause her to summon me. She approached me with a smile, arms outstretched and asked if we could have a talk. A talk? Since when had Arwen ever wanted to talk to me?

I sat down nervously where she gestured, and she sat alongside.

There was a long uncomfortable silence. Then at last she sighed.

"Sorry..." she started, "I'm finding this harder than I expected." She sighed again and closed her eyes briefly as if trying to summon courage from somewhere inside herself.

"I just wanted to apologise" she managed to blurt out at last. "Not a fake apology to stay in Daddy's good books..." she smiled, probably remembering the time she had played along to the crowd when apologising and got off scot free. "But a genuine, sincere apology for all the things I've done to you over the years... and how I've made your life a misery." I finally met her eyes, so like my own, and I couldn't see any lies in them. Was she really telling the truth?

"You must really hate me" she trailed off softly.

I didn't know what to say.

"I used to hate you... yes." I replied at last. "I used to spend hours trying to think up the perfect revenge to pay you back for everything you put me through."

I smiled and shook my head slowly. "Then I changed. Hating took so much effort. It consumed me. My only motivation in life was to get even with you, and it stopped me from having a life of my own." I paused briefly, letting this sink in.

"Then I discovered a new world. A world where I could actually make friends, and do something to help people. A world where I was no longer a shadow of my sister, but someone that actually meant something to certain people... I don't hate you any more Arwen. I pitied you for a while, And let's be honest... we're never going to be best friends. We'll never be able to put all the bitterness from the last 2,778?...9? How many is it now? It doesn't matter! the bitterness from all those years behind us."

I paused for a moment to think clearly. "But I appreciate and accept your apology... and it's nice to know that we won't be parting on such bad terms."

Arwen bowed her head.

"I still feel I should do something, even something small to make up..." she replied. Then suddenly she looked up, a light of an idea in her eyes.

"You said you hated being my shadow." she said enthusiastically. "Why don't I speak to the story writers and ballad singers - get them to change their songs and put you in as well. Get people to realise once and for all that there were two daughters of Elrond."

I thought about the idea. A few years ago I would have accepted immediately. But now, to tell the truth I wasn't sure if I really wanted it.

"Don't bother" I smiled, rising to my feet. "I don't want fame, and I don't care about being remembered - except by those who love me personally. Keep your songs, I honestly don't care. Besides - the songwriters would never get the lines and rhymes to fit if they had to change them all. I know I'm an individual person even if not everyone else does... and that's really the important thing."

By this point I'd reached the door. As I opened it, a maid almost fell through,

"Your Majesty" she addressed me hurriedly. Then she stopped, glanced at Arwen, back to me again, then back to Arwen. "Queen Arwen?" she asked nervously, unsure which of us to address.

I laughed, and glanced over my shoulder at my twin sister.

"Besides..." I continued a little further. "If people stopped confusing me for you It would be such a strange experience, I'd be completely lost. I wouldn't know how to cope!

Take care of yourself Arwen - in case I don't see you again."

"Take care yourself" she replied "I hope you and Niralan are really happy together."

I smiled one last time. Then I turned and left my sister's company. Perhaps for the last time.

#####################################################################

About 3 years later

The glorious sunset spread across the sky, the colours reflecting off the water. I stood at the front of the boat and watched the wooden bow slice through the waves, the shower of spray glistening in the last beams of sunlight.

I was going to the homeland of the Valinor.

At last I would see mother again, No more pain, no more death. The Undying Lands in the West sounded so wonderful. The only problem was that I had to leave Éowyn behind. I glanced back at the fading coast on the horizon and sighed. At least I knew she would be happy now with Faramir. I'd never forget her.

Niralan came up behind and put his arms around my shoulders. He didn't say anything, just hugged me tightly as the boat rocked from side to side. I closed my eyes and smiled, I was happy at last. I glanced down at the delicate sparkling ring on my finger and grinned, thinking of how many times Arwen had shoved hers under my nose. Now I had my own, and our wedding was planned soon after our arrival in the Undying Lands. Everything had turned out brilliantly.

"Sardwen!" I heard Granny cry behind me. I sighed, wondering what she wanted now. Some things never change, Granny is still Granny. But I guess you can't have everything!

#####################################################################

#####################################################################

#####################################################################

Well, there we go… I finished it!

Congratulations for making it through this mammoth feat of endurance. I trust that if you got this far then you must have vaguely enjoyed at least some of it. It's encouraging to know that there are at least some people out there who share my warped sense of humour!

Thank you for all your reviews, I really appreciated them

Hwesta


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